


lie to me

by ssalemghostss



Category: Ben Solo & Rey - Fandom, Kylo Ren & Rey - Fandom, Reylo - Fandom, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Biker AU, Broken Homes, Childhood Trauma, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Denial, Drug Dealing, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Gang AU, Gang Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo is that a weed?? I’m calling the police!, Masturbation, Modern AU, Murder, Murder Babies, Mutual Pining, Overdosing, Predatory Snoke, Psychological Trauma, Repressed Memories, Rey this is a crayon..., Slow Burn, Violence, bed sharing, biker kylo, cigarettes and whisky, cracked pavement, not your average gang shit, small town drama, switchblades and leather jackets, this is basically a sons of anarchy au, wrong side of the tracks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2019-07-27 04:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 77,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16211195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssalemghostss/pseuds/ssalemghostss
Summary: Growing up in Fairview, Oregon, a town divided into North and South and ruled by two rival street gangs, Ben Solo found his belonging on the wrong side of the law. He died in Snoke’s clutches, and from his ashes rose the Black Dog: Kylo Ren, a merciless, vicious enforcer for the South Side gang, the First Order. But when someone murdered Snoke, everything got turned upside down. Kylo was framed by a usurper and shunned, cut off from all he had known and all he had ever cared about. This is how he lives, as an outcast, unable to walk away from his past and the town that had left him out in the cold to die. That is, until he meets Rey, a beautiful, mysterious girl from the North Side with dark secrets all her own. She gets him entangled in a homicide and a revenge plot so dark and twisted that it may just claim their lives, if they don’t burn the entire town to the ground first.





	1. bottom of the river

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S HERE, IT'S HERE!!! I've been so excited to share this with you guys. I've been working hard on it for months and I'm really happy with the result so far (i just hope you guys will be, too!). In this AU, expect to see tough-as-nails Kylo fall hopelessly for Rey the firecracker, despite his better judgement. Buckle in for the slowest burn I've ever burned, folks. As always, if you like it, please share and let me know your thoughts! Comments and kudos keep me going, and I appreciate every single one. Enjoy!
> 
> \- 
> 
> “Could love kill? I was never really sure of the answer to that question, though I’d asked it many times. I thought it was what had killed my childhood dog, Rosie. I loved her too much and she died. That was what my Dad told me, but he never was very good with emotional stuff. I later found out it was kidney failure that did the trick – a much less poetic end for such a good dog. But then I met Rey, and I thought maybe I had my answer. A love like hers could absolutely kill me, and I think I’d be okay with that.”

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=2A0BjacnSt2SLGrUNKQt1g)

 

_Hold my hand_

_Oh, baby, it’s a long way down to the bottom of the river_

_Hold my hand_

_Oh, baby, it’s a long way down, a long way down_

_The wolves will chase you by the pale moonlight_

_Drunk and driven by a devil’s hunger…_

 

May, 2010

Fairview, Oregon

White Wolf River, North Side

11:06 P.M.

 

_Do you ever look up at the stars on a clear night and think about all the times you’ve died?_

_I don’t mean actual death. I mean it in more of a metaphorical sense. Like, all the times you’ve experienced some truly cataclysmic, personal-type change that completely altered the direction of who you are going to be as a person. There’s a part of you that withers away and dies when that happens to you; like a former self or shadow, disconnecting itself from you forever. And you look back on those days before you died, and you can’t really remember what kind of person you used to be._

_I was 19 when I died for the first time. I got involved with a bad crowd, and it was them or nothing. Of course I chose to feel like I belonged somewhere; it was all I’d ever wanted, all I’d never been able to achieve before. Just like that, Ben Solo, the boy I used to be, ceased to exist. He was weak, and so I killed him. I was given a new name, new aspirations, new ideas about life. I regenerated into Kylo Ren, and that’s who I’ve been since._

_The second time I died, I was 30. That was when I met_ her _. One look at that stunned girl, who seemed more like a child in the icy grasp of shock, kneeling in a pool of blood next to that dead man, and my entire world did a three-hundred and sixty degree shift._

_I guess this is the story of that._

 

***

         

          The stars that night twinkled like so many eyes, watching each and every movement within and around the woodsy town of Fairview. They blinked at the man lying in the long grass along the upper slope of the riverbank, and he blinked right back, his long, strong-featured face momentarily obscured by the lazy, grey-blue tendrils of smoke which curled from the end of his cigarette. It was almost like the stars shied away from him, dimming ever so slightly, disturbed by the wake of a passing satellite. The moon was half-full in the sky behind him, watching from a safe distance, much like the northern side of town; wary of his every breath. But this was an untrustworthy town full of scared people, and Kylo Ren was not widely considered to be a trustworthy man.

          Fairview, Oregon was a sleepy little town, most of the time. Back in the 1950’s it was a dream location for all those broken families looking for some semblance of normalcy after the war. It was picturesque enough; the town was bisected almost straight through the middle by a creek that went east to west, and surrounded by lush forest and woodsy groves. It had flourished in the 60’s and 70’s; its population crested the 5,000 mark, the highest it’d ever been. But then the Vietnam War happened and, as wars tend to do, it irrevocably altered the quiet little town.

          That pretty little river that cut the town in half became a tainted, geographical divide against the North Side and the South Side – like a regular Civil War, only with no peaceful leader trying to settle the dispute.

          The South Side developed their own club after guys started coming back from Vietnam, all lost and depressed and fucked-up, looking for like-minded folk they could call their brothers, so that they could maybe start to heal. And it really was that innocent, for a little while.

          The First Order was started in 1969 by a group of four friends who tried to reclaim as much sanity as they could by focusing their energy and confusion into the world of motorcycles and clubhouses. Eventually, this way of thinking spiralled out of control. By the late 1970’s, the Order was about seventy members strong, with charters in Washington and Northern California. The bikes quickly became a symbol rather than a lifesaver; a cover, and only a part-time passion. The original members were a little older now; weak in the face of their temptations – like they forgot what they started this for. They found wealth in drugs and guns and everything else was left in the dust. In the wake of a seventeen-and-a-half year war, these men now thrived off hysteria and a healthy sense of hopelessness, like they could die tomorrow. Jail time became a requirement for admittance by the early 1980’s. To risk everything, even freedom, was to feel alive again. Even Kylo Ren’s father, Han Solo, fell victim to these hostile temptations after Vietnam, but Kylo often chose to forget about that. He didn’t like to remember his father like that. Like him.

The North had the Resistance, which, as the name suggests, grew out of distaste for the Order. After several drug busts and shootouts in the South Side as a result of the Order’s nefarious dealings, the North responded by making its own community watch force that they thought would keep everyone safe. But they were just as selfish, prideful, and reckless as the Order, and in time, it showed. Vengeance reigned with the Resistance. It was all about intimidation; it always had been. They had the town police in their pocket, and the mayor, and all the council members were either paid off or a part of the game. Either way, the official authority was severely weighted to one side.

          You can go ahead and guess what side Kylo was on, but the answer probably won’t surprise you.

          Dark, brooding, and tall, Kylo Ren was an intimidating man. He towered over most, his glare could scorch the earth, and he wasn’t without his fair share of scars. One particularly nasty one, a thin rope of pale, mottled flesh, cut over his right eye, twisted down his cheek and jaw, and draped itself around the swell and curve of his clavicle. It had a story behind it – all his scars did. Just not stories he liked to remember very often.

He could be vicious, at times. Absolutely merciless. People used to fear him, like they feared the bogeyman. But he was also charming, handsome, and cunning. He had a particular knack for conning people. It made him a very valuable player in a game such as this one, and he had been valuable. Once.

          He sat up a little from his reclined position on the bank of the river. From his vantage point, he could see straight down the main road of the South Side. There wasn’t a sign of life to be found over there. Just the streetlights, flickering away, making it look like a horror movie.

          The signs and some of the buildings across the river were spray-painted over. “Junkies BEWARE!!” and “welcome 2 hell” were splattered on the side of a large white building that used to be a butcher shop. The speed limit in there was apparently “FUCK YOU” miles per hour. It painted a lovely picture of the South Side, and certainly an unabashedly truthful one.

          Kylo’s phone buzzed in the pocket of his dad’s old leather jacket, and he fished it out to take a look, hoping it was the text he’d been sitting there waiting for. It was.

          _Marcus has ur stuff. Bring cash 2 him. $400._

          “Finally.”

          Kylo stood and brushed the grass from his backside. Then, because he likes to make people wait, he lit up a fresh cigarette and leaned against the side of his 2005 Aston Martin Vanquish to smoke it. Kylo hated it when people referred to things that very clearly are not babies as their ‘babies’, but…after he got his car and fixed it up, he realized he could kind of understand where they’re coming from with that nonsense. That car, and his motorcycle, were the only things in life he actually took care of, and that included himself.

          When he was done smoking, he got into the driver’s seat and sighed. He can’t say he enjoyed going to his weed dealer’s house, or interacting with him at all, but Marcus was the only one who wasn’t scared to sell to Kylo. And, he usually had stuff that was good enough to make up for the fact that he was a huge asshole.

          Nobody liked Marcus. But then again, nobody liked Kylo either. Unlike Kylo, however, Marcus was a major player in the drug game. He didn’t just move pot, although that was all Kylo ever asked him for. Weed helped him sleep. Everyone has their vices.

          The South Side is a generally creepy place, and it would come off as such to anybody that didn’t live in it for any amount of time. The second a person crosses the old Settler Bridge that connects North to South, it’s like they’re entering a whole other world. One where bushes, ditches, and lawns are often left unruly and uncut; where every other house looks like a crack den. The pavement was cracked, and the streets badly patched. Some of the old stop signs had bullet holes in them, others were knocked down and had yet to be fixed. It’s not so bad, believe it or not; there are parts of the South Side that are pretty cool, it just takes some searching to find them. Lucky for Kylo, he’d mapped out every part of town a long time ago, including the rougher bits. But he did that because he had to. This town was like a life-sucking demon. He always felt it would chew him up and spit him out if he didn’t stay one step ahead of it at all times.

          That night though, he wasn’t going to any of the nicer parts of the South Side. He was headed straight to the belly of the beast – formally known as the intersection of Vine and 27th. He only counted two prostitutes and four drunks on his way there. It was a quiet night. Too quiet. Kylo shifted in his driver’s seat, feeling suddenly wary of the world around him. Something wasn’t quite right and he couldn’t place it. It put a bitter taste in his mouth. It could have been anything giving him this sensation, though; maybe the air smelled a little different than usual, or too many houses looked dark inside. The change was that small and seemingly insignificant, but he caught on to it nonetheless. This part of town was like an extension of himself; if something was even the slightest bit off, he knew. With all that said, you’d think he would’ve listened to his gut when it told him something was wrong and turned his car around, but he didn’t.

          When he pulled into Marcus’s gravel driveway, the feeling intensified. He sat in his car for a minute with the engine still running, trying to place it.

          Kylo always found that when something terrible happens, the trauma leaves behind a palpable imprint on a location; something you can just _feel_. One time, when he was little, his parents took him to Pearl Harbour. The tour had been cool and educational and all that, but by the end of it he just felt sick. He felt like he could hear the people screaming as they died, but they were too far away, and he couldn’t help them, or change what had happened to them in any way. This was sort of like that. The second he stepped out of his car, his body instinctively wanted to freeze up. He hesitated before shutting his door. He wanted to listen, to see if he could hear anything at all, but there was no sound. The street was silent.

          He knocked on the door three times and no one answered. So he tried the doorknob only to find it was unlocked. That was when he knew for sure that something was wrong. No big-time drug dealer would ever leave their door unlocked.

          Honestly, the house looked pretty normal at first. The framed poster of the Joker still hung askew above the ripped leather couch and the recycling was overflowing with beer cans. Other than that, it appeared mostly clean. Marcus was an asshole and a drug dealer, but he wasn’t the messiest guy Kylo knew. It seemed like some appearance of normalcy felt to him like he was maybe evading the drug dealer stereotype. If that was the case, it wasn’t working.

          Marcus was a big guy. Not height-wise, though. He was only 5’5, but he weight-trained, and it showed. He looked like the human male personification of a Pitbull. He was meaner than any Pitbull Kylo had ever met, though. He was always angry; the tiniest thing would set him off like a firecracker. Kylo had never encountered that sort of issue with him, because Marcus respected Kylo for some reason. But Kylo had borne witness to it enough times that it didn’t even really matter anymore. It was just Marcus. Kylo had had to haul him off of so many people he’d lost count. He’d been pulled into fights that Marcus started, entirely by accident.

          The floorboards creaked noisily beneath his boots, causing him to pause. He thought he heard something shuffle upstairs, so he followed it. As he climbed the stairs, he realized he had no weapons on or about his person. He had a belt, which he supposed could be used as a weapon, if the need was dire enough. But other than that, the only things he came equipped with were his fists, his feet, and his own unrelenting stupidity.

          He rounded the corner into Marcus’s bedroom. First, he saw his feet and legs, lying down there on that ugly brown carpet. They were splayed out in an unnatural way; the left one bent awkwardly at the knee like it had been broken there. _Oh, fuck,_ he cursed to himself. _Oh, shit._ Kylo didn’t really want to see more after that, but he told himself he’d already come too far to turn back. So he stepped inside. There lay Marcus, his black eyes staring blankly up at the ceiling, mouth slightly ajar. Blood dripped from the corner of his lips, and also from his throat, where a red-handled switchblade was sticking out, buried to the hilt. And there, next to his head, knelt a woman.

          “Jesus Christ” was the only thing he could think of to say, so he said it.

          Kylo thought if it were him, and he’d just been caught by a stranger sitting next to a freshly-murdered body with blood that was very clearly not his own on his hands, he might just get up and try to run away or at least show some sign of terror. But that was not the case here.

          The girl simply lifted the softest, brightest hazel doe eyes up to his face, opened her mouth, and said two simple words. Simple, apart from the fact that they got him tangled up in a homicide.

          “Help me.”

She had blood on her face, too; little red flecks decorated the bridge of her nose and her cheeks like rubies. Kylo couldn’t tell if it was hers or Marcus’s. Her right eye was swelling shut a bit. Very quickly, he surveyed the room. It definitely appeared like a struggle had taken place, now that he could actually look at anything other than her. The sheets had been ripped off the bed, the curtain rod pulled out of the wall on one end, and the bedside table had been tipped over – its contents lay all over the floor, including Kylo’s bag of weed.

Of course, this was insane. But it wasn’t anything terribly traumatic to him. He’d seen a dead body before. He’d made a dead body before. He wasn’t much of a fan of the act, but he couldn’t take it back now. Maybe that kind of exposure to just such a scenario prompted his next acts. Or maybe he just wanted to help this girl who looked so troubled and stunned that he knew she couldn’t possibly fix this mess on her own.

          “Okay,” he said, as calmly as he could.

          _Shit, now what?_ Kylo had to urge himself to think clearly. _The cops hate Marcus. A lot of people hate Marcus. Maybe we just bust in the front door a little, make it look like something real dirty went down…or we just leave, like we were never even here. I like that idea._

“Um, don’t move. And don’t touch anything.” Kylo said, pointing a finger at her. She just nodded stiffly in response. She was holding her hands palm-up in her lap, like she was waiting for a communion cracker to be dropped into them.

          He found some rags under the kitchen sink. When he ran back upstairs, she hadn’t moved an inch.

          Carefully, he squatted down and, using the rag, he grasped the hilt of her switchblade and began to pull it out. She sat in complete silence as he did all this, just watching him do it with an unreadable expression on her face. He wrapped the blade tightly in the rag and handed it to her. Her hands were surprisingly steady as she took it. The knife left an uneven little gash in the side of Marcus’s neck, where blood still dribbled out at a steady pace.

          He walked around her and picked up his bag of weed off the floor, stashing it in his jacket pocket, because he was not about to just leave it sitting there. He wasn’t a psychopath. Plus, it had his name written on it in Sharpie, and, well…should the cops come knocking…

          He got to the doorway of the bedroom, intending to leave, when his feet stopped moving. _Come on!_ He told himself. _You are not going to be a part of this. You’re already too involved. You don’t even know this chick! She’s obviously capable of murder…move!_

          But then he turned around, and she was still looking at him like she was lost, and _fuck_ , he knew right then he couldn’t just leave her there. She was too pretty and too young to be stuck in a place like that. _Damn it._

          Kylo sighed, mostly because he was fed up with himself and his inability to let lost things stay lost.

          “Come with me,” he requested, offering her his hand. “This is a high-traffic drug house, so we have to get out of here now before someone else shows up.”

          She must have sensed his urgency, or heard it in his voice, because she stood slowly, revealing a pair of long, slender legs that didn’t tremble, not even once. She stepped over the body and took Kylo’s hand. Her touch was ice cold and it made him wonder how long she’d been sitting there, staring at her victim’s dead face. She had small hands, feminine ones, but a firm grip. It was like she was holding onto him for dear life, which he supposed maybe she was.

          The two slipped into Kylo’s car, hidden by the nighttime shadows, and he tossed his jacket into the backseat. He drove the speed limit all the way to the outskirts of town on the east side, where the river widened considerably and got deep. He pulled way over onto the grass and shut his car off before casting a look at his passenger. Her skin was ghostly white, her lips were trembling ever so slightly, and her eyes were all wet and glassy. Kylo knew that haunted expression on her face very well, and he knew what was coming.

          “Hey…c’mon, we’re not done yet,” he said quietly, trying to rouse her from the shock that was settling over her like a suffocating blanket.

          She kind of jumped at his voice, like she’d forgotten he was there. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates as she looked at him. It made her appear kind of crazy and he felt like she was peering straight into his soul while at the same time looking right through him.

          “Do you understand?” he asked. “You’ve got to toss your knife.”

          She nodded and then opened her door and got out in a very robotic manner. Kylo followed her at a little bit of a distance. Usually, the weight of a serious situation never really hit him until a little bit later, after he’d had adequate time to get himself completely entangled in a mess. This was no exception. He was out in the barren wasteland that was the outskirts of Fairview, close to the abandoned train yard, on the banks of a very deep, swiftly-moving river, with a girl who was in shock because she had just killed somebody – possibly for the first time. And he was helping her destroy the evidence. And he didn’t even know her name yet. _You’re a stupid son of a bitch. All it takes is a pair of sweet, pretty eyes and you become fucking useless._

The switchblade and rag made a satisfying _plop_ sound when they smacked the surface of the water. The river looked inky black and depthless in the dead of night and it seemed to swallow their offering whole. All that remained were a few bubbles that rose to the surface and popped.

          Neither of them spoke. What were they supposed to say? You’d think committing a crime would be a good conversation starter, but it was the exact opposite of that. They just kind of stared out into space for a bit and let the weight of the thing they’d done crush them just a little – the girl more than Kylo. It might have crushed her a bit too much, though, because after nearly three minutes of silence she suddenly dropped down to her knees and vomited into the river.

          Kylo just stood there, like a helpless idiot. He stood and watched her heave and choke and spit until nothing more came up. When she was done, she scooped some water up with her palm and wiped her mouth. Then she sat up and she was shaking like a leaf. Kylo wanted to offer her his jacket, but he’d left it in the car. All he had were the cigarettes in his pants pocket, so he knelt down and offered her one of those instead. She latched onto it immediately, pulling out her own lighter from inside her bra. She lit his, too. And then they took off their shoes and socks and put their feet in the cool river and they smoked their cigarettes and gradually, the weight got easier to bear.

          “So, I gotta say, this is probably the weirdest way I’ve ever met someone.”

          As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he should have swallowed them back down. He never was very good at picking up on social graces. He was like his father that way. He always said the wrong thing, even when he didn’t mean to. His humour was of the dry and sarcastic variety, and his timing was abysmal. He’d try to be funny in an awkward situation and it’d fail horribly. This was one of those times. He knew this because she didn’t laugh, or even blow air through her nose. She just took a final drag off her cigarette and flicked it into the river.

          “Sorry you had to see all that,” she said. She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed. “The blood, and the knife…and the vomiting…”

          “It was…not what I was expecting to do tonight, that’s for sure,” Kylo admitted. “But it’s not the worst thing I’ve seen. Are you okay?”

          “No. I’m not.”

          “What happened?”

          “I…I just remember that he hurt me.”

          Ah. So it was going to be like that. _I guess I’m not privy to whatever reasons she had for being at Marcus’s house. That’s fine._ Kylo felt like he kind of deserved to know that, if nothing else.

          “So it was self-defence.” He offered, trying to squeeze anything else out of her. He still felt that intrinsic need to _know_ , which had been wholly engrained in him from his time with the Order. What had she been doing there? Why did she kill him? Whose side was she on, North or South?

          “Not really.”

          He sighed. “Well, we’ll stick with that for now then. What’s your name?”

          She fixed him with that stare again; the one that cut straight through him and left a mark deep within him. Her makeup was smudged and she still had some blood on her face. Her eyes narrowed, like she was deciding whether or not she could trust him with such sensitive information as her name. _I get it,_ he decided. No one could ever prove themselves enough in this town.

          “I’m Rey,” she answered. “And who might my white knight be?”

          “Kylo.”

          She blinked. Kylo watched her connect the dots just by examining her facial expressions. Now was the time to see if she stayed, or if she ran.

          “Kylo…” His name rolled off her tongue like she was tasting it in her mouth. “Like the Order’s vicious watchdog, Kylo? _The_ Black Dog of the First Order? That Kylo?”

          So she knew him. Or she knew of him. Kylo wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. Actually, he was quite certain it wasn’t.

          “I don’t work for the Order anymore,” he said coolly. It was the truth. Had been the truth for almost two years.

          “Oh. So why were you at Marcus’s?”

          _Sharp as a whip, this one. Nothing gets by her._

          “He had something for me,” he answered curtly.

          “Oh, right. The bag of pot you grabbed before we left.”

          Kylo gave her a look. He didn’t even know she’d seen him do that.

          “At least it’s not coke or heroin,” she muttered.

          “Yeah? What about you?” he asked, eager to get the heat off of himself. “What were you doing there? Coke or heroin?”

          “Neither,” she shot back. “Personally, I thought it was obvious what I was doing there.”

          “Well it’s not,”

          She reached her arm out to scratch her ankle, and that’s when he saw the circular design of her tattoo: a Resistance symbol, inked in orange and outlined in black, just peeking out under the raised hem of her pants. Kylo’s hackles raised instinctively at the sign of the enemy. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t his fight anymore, it couldn’t be. But then she turned her head to look at him again and the next words that came out of her mouth reminded him that it already was his fight, whether he wanted it or not.

          “I was there to kill Marcus.”


	2. dangerous liaisons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: minor rape mention in this chapter and description of male/female violence (in which the female righteously kills the male attacker). If these trigger you please use caution.

May, 2010

Fairview, Oregon

Wolf Creek, North Side

11:58 P.M.

 

          The silence was deafening.

          The two strangers stared each other down, the reality of their situation settling heavily upon their shoulders. They were supposed to be enemies. They were supposed to want to bite each other’s throats out. But instead they had now formed this strange bond wherein Rey owed Ren for (likely) saving her life. And they both knew their story wasn’t over yet; it couldn’t be. They were accomplices in a murder. This shit-show had only just begun.

          Resentful as he was towards her, Kylo already knew he wouldn’t be able to just leave her there. A part of him certainly wanted to, but he knew it was just his past habits taking control. He had to remind himself he wasn’t that person anymore. He still needed some questions answered, and she was the only person alive who could do that for him. _Fuck, she owes me that at least,_ he thought bitterly. Besides, she had known who he was before he even knew her name and she hadn’t run away or tried to attack him, so he supposed he could stand to help her out a little more.

          “So, are you going to tell me who you work for or do I have to answer a riddle?” he asked darkly.

          Rey’s eyebrows shot up. Apparently, she was astonished by his phrasing.

          “Oh, we’re all business now, are we?” she asked. “All that heroic energy went out the window when you figured out where I come from, huh? Because that’s what it all boils down to.”

          “I _am_ your fucking hero,” Kylo spat, jabbing a finger at her. “I saved your ass and I can just as easily throw you right back into the mess you created. If I hadn’t come along, you’d be dead, you know that? Dead.”

          “Woof.”

She barked at him. She fucking barked at him, like they used to do back in the days when they called him the Black Dog, just to spur him on. But there was a glimmer in her eye that suggested she wasn’t trying to pique his anger. Or maybe it was just the moonlit water reflecting in her pupils.

“Thanks for coming along to buy pot, I guess,” she mumbled, plucking at the grass by her shoe. “Oh, and to answer your first question, I don’t work for anyone.”

“You’re shitting me,” Kylo could have laughed. “You’ve got the Resistance tattoo and you’re gonna try and tell me you fly solo? There’s no fucking way.”

She shot him a fiery glare that betrayed some hurt feelings she was obviously trying to repress.

“I don’t work for the Resistance anymore,” she snarled. “Sound familiar? Thought you’d understand.”

_Oh._

That wasn’t what he expected to hear. But how could he have known that? Judging by what he’d seen so far, he had every right to think she was still on the side of the Resistance. But now that he knew she wasn’t, the closer he looked, the more he saw. She was glaring at the ground and her fingers viciously tugged at the grass, ripping it from the earth with no mercy. This was a girl who was deeply angry – a girl with a vendetta. This was a girl who could be useful to him.

“What happened?” he asked, genuinely curious now.

She shook her head and he thought he heard her snort derisively.

“You don’t have time for that story,” she mumbled.

“Oh, on the contrary, we have plenty of time.”

He squatted next to her and pointed across the river, where the dark windows of sleeping households reflected black in the night across the road, and the streetlights twinkled along the face of the water. Her gaze followed his finger dolefully.

“My house is just across the river there, see? The one the gravel driveway, near the fire hydrant. How about we go finish this conversation indoors, and you answer some of my fucking questions? Because I have a lot.”

Rey snapped her head back, away from the direction he was pointing. He could practically see the flames crawling up through the collar of her shirt. He felt like he could pick up on her emotions as though he were sniffing a fine wine, trying to assemble its bouquet. Anger, offense, and maybe a little bit of quality embarrassment, too. Her lips were pursed ever so slightly, affronted by the mere thought of his request. And yet her eyes were wide, _shocked_ , by the idea of someone like _him_ helping someone like _her_.  

“I need to get back,” she muttered.

“Back where? Where do you call home?” he interjected, demanding an answer from her.

“Never mind.” She shrunk away as if ashamed.

Kylo could see she was troubled. It took a troubled youth to know a troubled youth, and he caught on pretty quick. He wouldn’t push her to talk. She’d talk of her own volition, eventually, because as far as he could tell, she was all alone, and that was no way to be in this town.

He stood up and sighed. “You’ll be safe there, I promise. Trust me when I say no First Order member is going to come looking for you there. At the very least it’s a place to lay low for a bit. Plus you look like you could use a drink, and maybe some ice on that eye.”

This roused her off her ass. She stood and, giving one more look of wariness, walked to his car and opened the back passenger door.

Kylo nodded, opening the driver’s side. “Back seat, bold choice. I’m not a creep, just so you know.”

“The fact that you have to explicitly state that raises the hairs on my arms,” Rey quipped sullenly, gazing out the window as they reversed.

“Hey, I don’t have to prove shit to you,” Kylo reminded her as his car roared to life. “You already know who I am, and I assume you know what I’ve done.”

“Some of it…”

“Well maybe if you give me some info, I’ll do the same for you. I just want to know what the fuck I saw tonight, and if you can explain that to me, great. I’d really appreciate it.”

Rey grumbled something to herself in the backseat before asking, “Where’s your shock collar, dog?”

Kylo bit back a retort. As much as he hated it now when people called him that, because now it was more of an insult, like fingernails picking open an old wound, he knew the last thing Rey needed was to be yelled at by someone who was still basically a stranger.

During the short drive over to his house, his thoughts kept flip-flopping on exactly what he was going to do about the girl in his backseat. He just couldn’t help mentally beating himself up over it. It was a constant battle between his intrinsic need to get to the bottom of this and his own self-hatred for going against the core values which had been instilled in him a long time ago. After all, who was he to pick up random North Side scum and carry it back to its garbage can? Last he could remember, he’d completed his community service. And yet, even though he knew he should dislike her, and he knew he shouldn’t be helping her, he refused to leave her at risk. For some stupid reason, he felt almost protective over her, but in a strangely natural way. He barely even knew her. But there was just something about her he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried (and he was most certainly trying).

His house was pretty barren, as far as houses go. He had an old, scarred wooden table and chairs, a couch, a TV, and a bed for furniture. But he also had a fantastic coffee-maker, a new toaster oven, and a surround-sound system that he was particularly fond of. But no pictures hung on the walls. No rugs filled out the floors. It looked like the kind of house belonging to someone who was only there for maybe one month out of the year. Someone who didn’t have friends, or family, or any memories worth keeping.

Rey looked around somewhat nervously. Kylo watched her eyes dart around, absorbing her surroundings, looking for traps and the like. As he turned away from her to open his alcohol cupboard, he hid a smirk.

He had gotten the whiskey out for himself before he realized he had no idea what she drank, or if she even drank alcohol.

“Um—” he began.

“Whiskey’s fine,” she interrupted, taking a seat at the table.

He poured them each a glass and slid hers across the table to her with an expert flourish. She nabbed it in her palm without spilling a drop and raised her eyebrows.

“That’s a neat trick,” she commented, sipping her drink.

Kylo shrugged and passed her an ice pack in a dish towel before he sat down. He took a swig himself and instantly felt a little more settled as the liquid burned within him.

“Not as neat as your trick,” he murmured. “How’d someone your size take down a guy like Marcus single-handedly?”

She smirked, proud of herself, and a dimple on her cheek deepened. Kylo’s eyes were drawn to it for a moment. He swallowed.

“Are you asking me to tell you my secrets?” she asked coyly.

“I’m just asking what the fuck you did,” Kylo replied. “If it’s a secret of yours, I promise it’ll be safe with me.”

Rey ran her fingers around the rim of her glass, contemplating. It was a long moment before she started to tell her story.

“I’ve been tracking Marcus for weeks now,” she began. “Seeing where he goes, who he’s with, right down to what he eats in a day.”

“For the Resistance?” Kylo asked, like it was such an obvious explanation.

“No,” She shot him a dark look that quickly faded. “It’s been five months now since I did any of that for them. Now I do it for myself.”

“How so?”

“I have reason to believe Marcus was there the night my parents died, when I was nine years old. And I know he played a part in their death.”

She fixed him with a calculating stare, trying to see how he was going to react. But Kylo betrayed nothing if he knew something.

“I see,” he said. Something cold lodged itself in his throat. He had seen Marcus kill before. He had witnessed the violence. The thought that Kylo may have watched her parents die and not known it troubled him deeply for some reason. “I’m sorry…that’s pretty young to lose both your parents.”

“Yes. It is.” She sighed bitterly. “But anyway, I didn’t plan on killing Marcus tonight. But then I went for a walk, and when I turned the corner there he was, and I saw him and he saw me. When he started to smile at me, I knew I was going to kill him. This was my chance, whether I was ready or not.

“So I told him I was looking to score some coke and I let him take me to his place. You know, while I was there, in his house, I thought for just a second that maybe I shouldn’t do it tonight. Maybe I should learn what I could and go; dump the coke somewhere on my way out. I don’t know. A lot of thoughts went through my head.”

“Sure,” Kylo murmured, enraptured by the way she spoke, how her voice would kind of fade in and out as she remembered things.

“But then he started to make passes at me,” she went on, her hand tightening its grip on her glass. “He was going to rape me, I know he was. I could see it in his face; in the way he looked at me. His hand went to my thigh and I pushed him away on instinct, and he acted all affronted, like, how dare I tell him no? It made me feel sick. Men are fucking pigs, you know.”

She gave him a pointed glance.

“Amen to that, sister,” He tipped his glass at her and took his final sip before topping them both off with more whiskey. As bad as it was, it sounded like something Marcus would do. Kylo’s fingers gripped the whiskey bottle a little tighter than necessary. He loathed men who did that to women. It left a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

“I yelled at him to back off, and he tried to hit me but I dodged it. I grabbed at the curtain to keep my balance but the rod gave way,” She smirked in morbid remembrance. “He was too big to be nimble. Too top-heavy. Every lunge he made I ducked. He only managed to grab my hair once, and then he was shoved into a bedside table.”

That explained the mess.

“After that, I crossed to the door, and he followed, obviously really quite mad at me by this point. I noticed he had a baseball bat hidden behind his door when I first went in there, so grabbed it behind my back. I let him get as close as possible, and then I swung it and took out his knee. He fell with this resounding _boom_ …it was almost satisfying in a way. He tried to sit up, cursing and swearing at me, telling me he’s going to kill me. And that’s when I took out my knife, shoved it all the way into his jugular, and twisted the handle.”

She took a long swallow from her cup and swirled the remnants around and around.

“One thing I do have to say about it, watching him die made my fucking week.”

Kylo tilted his head at her, eyes falling to her hands, one of which was still white-knuckled around her drink.

“You’re still shaking a bit,” he commented, drawing her attention to the fact. “Was it the first time you ever killed somebody?”

Something came over her, just for a fraction of a second. Her expression turned to stone, and a shadow crossed her eyes. _There’s something there,_ Kylo thought to himself. _Something she’ll never tell me._

“The first time in a long time,” she murmured, squeezing her free hand into a fist and hiding it in her lap.

“Well, hey…I’d say you got the job done,” he offered. “If it makes you feel any better, you just made a lot of people happy.”

She raised her glass in a half-hearted sort of way. “Cheers for them.”

There was a brief silence where the only sound was the ticking clock on the wall. Kylo narrowed his eyes at this strange girl sitting at his kitchen table. Who the hell was she, and what was her endgame? She was clearly the type to hold a grudge, as she had a blatant vendetta inherently driving her. But he couldn’t remember ever seeing her before that night, and yet, little things in her face seemed somewhat familiar to some ghostly memory in the far recesses of his mind. Yes, maybe the shape of her nose, those flashy hazel eyes, the dimples too…

“What was that you said before?” he asked, making her jump a little. _She forgot about me again. Where does she go?_ “About your parents dying, and Marcus having something to do with it?”

“Oh,” Rey hummed, tapping her fingernails anxiously on the outside of her glass. “It’s…I don’t know how to even begin, let alone tell you without you thinking I’m insane.”

“Who says I don’t already think that?”

She shot him a reproachful look that quickly softened. But then a dark cloud passed over her face, and Ren thought she’d faded away into the background of her mind again. Before he could shock her out of it, however, she set her ice pack down and began her story.

“My parents didn’t just _die_ ,” she said quietly. “Their death was a carefully calculated, organized plot. But for the longest time, I didn’t know it had been a murder. Only recently did I start to figure that out.”

Ren silently topped their drinks off, thinking they may both need the extra help to get through this tale.

“Thanks,” Rey sighed. “My parents worked for the Resistance for as long as I can remember. I grew up on the North Side, amidst the throes of a gang that refuses to call itself a gang. They call themselves a ‘family’ instead. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

She took a long drink from her cup, eyes steeling over in remembrance.

“They like to say they always have each other’s backs, but really they’re more concerned with sticking knives in them. Over the years I’ve learned this in various ways; they’re a lot darker, a lot more malicious and clever, than they’d have the public or even the Order believe.”

“And what breadcrumb led you to that discovery?” Kylo asked pensively.

Rey’s eyes flitted to his face, searching it, as if looking for a reason to tell him.

“For starters, my parents were raised on the South Side of town, and because of that, the Resistance leader had no intention of ever fully accepting them.”

Kylo’s eyes widened. This was something significant, relatable; something he could latch himself onto. A twist in the story – an intriguing mystery, represented by the glint in the girls’ eye.

“Wait – your parents were south-siders?” Kylo asked. “What were their names?”

Rey’s eyes brightened. “Abel and Kira. Did you know them?”

Something flickered in the back of Kylo’s mind; a quick flash of distant memory that quickly eluded his grasp like smoke. He shook his head, suddenly sorry he couldn’t recall anything.

“No.”

The light in her face vanished but she was good at pretending that things didn’t bother her. She carried on with her story without missing a beat.

“Yes, they were originally south-siders, but they weren’t born there. They were born in England, in the same neighbourhood. Their parents knew one another and migrated here. It’s a whole romantic sob-story that really has nothing to do with what I’m telling you right now.”

“Right,” Ren nodded, sipping his drink. “Go on.”

“Like I said, my parents grew up in the South Side. And, like any young, stupid adult in that time period, they got coerced into batting for the Order.”

“Mm, turncoats, huh?” Ren raised an eyebrow.

“Something like that,” Rey responded bitterly. “They fell hard into the drug scene. They were mules for the Order, transporting the illegal cargo across three counties. Then they were caught, and they became a threat because of everything they knew, and the Order suddenly didn’t trust them anymore, even though they didn’t give anyone up for a shorter sentence although they could have. They both did time in prison and when they got out, they had nowhere to turn to. They’d been effectively shunned.”

 _I know what that’s like,_ Ren thought to himself sullenly. To be an outcast in this town was a horrible, lonely fate; one where people would purposely leave a seat or two between you and the rest of them at the bar. Because that’s what it was. It was you, and them. No place could reject a person en masse quite like Fairview could.

“Only now, they had valuable information that a lot of people on the North Side wanted to hear,” Rey continued, tracing the pattern on her glass with one fingernail. “Plus, they both knew they needed to get out of the drug realm. It had almost killed them, after all, and if they went back to the South Side _something_ was guaranteed to kill them, one way or another. So they took the chance and moved to the North Side, where the Resistance was waiting for them with open arms.”

Ren scoffed. “Of course they were. Always there to save the day when it’s most convenient for them.”

“Yeah, convenient,” Rey rolled her eyes. “My parents joined forces with the Resistance, shortly after its creation, when everyone still thought it was some great community watch program, backed by the mayor, blah-blah-blah. They thought it saved their souls, but in retrospect it did the exact opposite.”

She cast her gaze out Kylo’s kitchen window. He watched the streetlight reflect in her hazel eyes and he felt a sudden, violent surge of hatred for whoever was responsible for making her look so sad. He couldn’t explain it; he still knew almost jack about her, and yet his first instinct was to avenge her. _She’s just some North Side chick,_ he told himself firmly. _No need to jump off the deep end._ It confused him, and troubled him a little bit, so naturally he repressed it, but it made him shift just a little in his chair, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I don’t know all the details yet,” Rey went on. “What I do know is that they were both murdered, and I was young and vulnerable when it happened, and the Resistance told me they had overdosed on drugs supplied by the First Order as a revenge plot for ratting on them. I was blinded by heartbreak and confusion; I didn’t even care to see the obvious signs that that was a lie meant to twist me up even further in the web of gang mentality that hangs over this town like a poison fog. I wanted revenge. At ten years old, all I wanted was revenge on the Order. How messed up is that? I should have been learning to skateboard or how to do my hair, or reading new books, and instead I was plotting murder.”

Kylo sucked air in through his teeth and slowly blew it out, eyebrows raising in stunned speculation. _Talk about tragic backstories,_ he thought. _And I thought my childhood was rough._

“Yeah, that’s…pretty fucked up,” Kylo agreed, topping off their glasses one more time. “So when did you figure out it was all a lie?”

“Too recently for my liking,” Rey muttered. “Within the last year or so. I’ve had my suspicions for longer than that, though. But then I found some… _stuff,_ in my adoptive parents’ storage locker, and it was all I needed to make my decision.”

“I see,” Kylo mused. She wasn’t going to tell him what that ‘stuff’ was. Not yet. “So, just to clarify, you think the Resistance put in a bid to kill your parents, and made you think it was all the Order’s doing?”

“More or less,” she shrugged. “But I know the Order conspired with the Resistance on the matter; there’s no way this wasn’t a well-thought-out plot. You and I both know how these gangs work.”

Kylo grimaced. He knew, alright. He’d seen it with his own two eyes; the violent repercussions of betrayal and mistrust. The blood flashed behind his eyelids as though painted there, bright crimson, sprayed across a brick wall crime scene backdrop. It meant the end of a life, no matter how fruitful it had been, if at all. It meant a lonely death, a hard death, and nothing else. _The worst kind._

“Alright,” He sighed and put both his elbows on the table, crossing his arms atop it. He stared straight at her over the top of the whiskey bottle. “So what’s your plan here, kid? What are you going to do? Blow the place up?”

“I’m not a _kid._ I’m twenty-one. And…what? Blow it up?” Rey screwed up her face at him.

Kylo shrugged. “I mean, it worked for the Branch Davidians in Waco…” _And this shit is practically on-par with a cult mentality…_

“No, I don’t want to _actually_ blow this town up,” Rey grumbled, her expression quickly growing dark. “I just want to completely and utterly destroy it, and the divisive politic it stands for.”

“Uh – okay,” Kylo shook his head, deciding not to say what he was going to say, about how that was basically what he’d suggested by blowing it up. “You do know, though, that you can’t just go into this half-cocked, right? There’s a lot more at stake here than your own satisfaction.”

“Like what?” Rey demanded.

“Well, how about all the innocent people out there who don’t really engage with the dichotomy, or the gangs? All those kids out there who are way more focused on graduating eighth grade than they are on a murder that happened years ago? Or those nine-year-olds, who are no more prepared to lose their family to gang violence than you were at their age?”

Rey scowled at him, clearly offended by the way in which he referenced her parents’ murder. Ren quickly back-tracked.

“Look, all I’m saying is, it could put a lot of people in jeopardy if you’re not careful,” He evened his gaze with hers, meaning to make his next words stick. “You don’t want to start a gang war in this town, kid. Trust me.”

Trust him she should. But did she? Not a chance.

“On the contrary,” she replied coolly, a twisted smile appearing on her face, “that’s exactly what I want to do. I hate this town, and I’ll gladly start the fire if it means I get to watch it burn.”

Kylo sat back in his chair, and the two sat appraising the other for a good amount of time, trying to weigh what kind of person they were, what they used to be, and what they could become. It was a difficult task, on Ren’s part. The girl was almost inscrutable. She was fiery, that much he could tell. And she certainly had a raw determination that could hardly be rivalled by anyone else he knew, but he really wasn’t certain yet if that was a good asset or not. As for her trustworthiness, he was completely in the dark and, for the moment, quite happy to stay there. The only reason she had given him to back-up the mere _thought_ that she was somewhat trustworthy was the fact that she hadn’t spit in his face or tried to kill him…yet. But considering the fact that, as she said in his car, she knew _some_ of the things he had done in his past, and it hadn’t made her freak out…well, it was something for him to consider, is all.

But he could see by the look in her eyes that she didn’t trust him, not one bit. She was wary. If he squinted his eyes and tilted his head to the right he could almost see the emotional walls she had put up and reinforced. But the longer he tried to analyze her, the more certain he grew in the fact that she was not safe in this town. The fact that she hadn’t let it eat her alive yet was admirable, but it wasn’t enough. The town was hunting her, just as she was hunting it, and Kylo could tell. It took a fire-starter to know a fire-starter.

Someone probably would have found Marcus’s body by that point. They’d be looking for his killer, for a little while, at least. And since suspicion ran in the veins of Fairview, they’d turn their attentions first to the North Side and the Resistance before looking inwards. For some reason, Kylo couldn’t convince himself to send her back out into that chaos, that danger. She’d be too easy a target if they were patrolling the North Side. And sure, maybe she could give them a good fight, but it wouldn’t be enough. He just couldn’t bring himself to be responsible for that kind of a mess.

He pushed himself away from the table and grabbed the whiskey bottle by the neck, turning to put it back in its cupboard. He waited until his back was to her to speak.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight,” he said stonily. “It’ll be safer in the morning, when there’s enough witnesses.”

_“What?”_

Kylo smirked, then quickly hid it away before turning back around to face her. She had a look of utter astonishment on her face, like a teenager who had just been told she couldn’t go to the party.

“Oh, sorry. Would you rather walk home in the middle of the night when there’s probably a clown car of thugs out looking for someone like you?” Kylo quipped.

Rey sputtered, completely taken aback by his request. Suddenly her expression turned grim and she angrily crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“How do I know _you’re_ not one of those thugs?” she demanded icily.

“I’m offering you one-night’s refuge on my couch,” Kylo retorted. “That’s literally it. What do I have to gain from attacking you, when I’ve already done more than I should have for you?”

“Well, you _were_ one of them,” she grumbled. “Snoke’s right-hand man, no?”

Kylo took a deep breath to calm himself. He didn’t particularly like that name being spoken in his house, or hurled at him like some sort of self-combusting weapon – in which it was quite effective. _Remember all that shitty shit you’ve done? Remember that you’re a killer? Remember how you’re corrupt? Remember how you lost your youth to this man? Remember, remember, remember…_

“Key-word is ‘were’,” Kylo snarled. “You want proof?”

He pulled his shirt sleeves up and jabbed a barely shaking finger at the angry black band that encircled his right forearm, about two-thirds of the way to his elbow. Then again, at the matching one around his left elbow. They looked scribbled on; the dark ink had bled, and so had he.

Rey’s eyes widened as she took notice of the dark marks upon his skin. Her glowering expression waned quite fast.

“I was _dishonourably discharged_ from the First Order because Hux made everyone think I was a rat; that I was partly to blame for Snoke’s death – a blatant fucking lie that nearly everyone believed,” He growled. “I was stripped of everything I’d cared about and worked on for years, and all I have left to show for it are these ugly blackouts. If you know of me, you know that. So you can quit being stubborn and just sleep on my damn couch for one night, or you can go out and get yourself killed. Entirely up to you.”

Rey swallowed. Something about the blackout tattoos made her feel very uneasy. There was something evil about them; something twisted. She could only imagine how bad it must have hurt, having the tattoo gun rammed viciously into his skin, stabbing and tearing as his blood flowed into the ink, covering up any visible affiliation with the Order. And he had had to sit there, and take it until it was done. She doubted those were the only two he had, either.

She met his eyes, and fire crackled between them. His words had disturbed her, too. It was all too clear that Kylo didn’t like talking about his past, or what had happened to him. The fact that he had done so before her just then was more than enough to silence her. Something flickered behind her eyes, too – something darker than even she could admit to herself. Kylo saw it. He recognized it, for he had the same darkness lurking inside him.

“Do you have a blanket…?” she mumbled awkwardly, conceding.

“There’s one on the back of the couch,” Kylo said, his tone softening up a bit. “Lock the door and keep the curtains closed. And don’t think about stealing anything.”

Rey cast a weary glance around the barren living room and kitchen. “If I find anything worth stealing, I’ll let you know,” she quipped.

Kylo smirked to himself. She was a spit-fire. He liked it.

 

When he woke the next morning and shuffled to the kitchen to make coffee, she was already gone. The blanket had been folded and neatly set atop the back of the couch. There was no note on the cushion, no sign that she had even been there in the first place, apart from her whiskey glass in his sink. No way to easily find her again. No way to stop her from crushing Fairview in her fist.

Kylo sat on his couch and sighed. _What have I done now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thank you all for the overwhelmingly positive response to the first chapter! I can't begin to explain how happy it makes me to know you're enjoying it so much already, and we've only just begun ;) 
> 
> Hopefully this chapter tickled your fancy, too. If anyone has any recommendations for tags and songs to add to the story playlist, let me know!


	3. a deal for a devil

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=U4uk-w5TR6aUPMPbzSJQvw)

 

 

 

_I hear hurricanes a-blowing_  
_I know the end is coming soon_  
_I fear rivers over flowing_  
_I hear the voice of rage and ruin_

_Don't go 'round tonight_  
_It's bound to take your life_  
_There's a bad moon on the rise_

 

_I hope you got your things together_  
_I hope you are quit prepared to die_  
_Look's like we're in for nasty weather_  
_One eye is taken for an eye_

 

 

Early June, 2010

Lloyd’s Auto, South Side

6:48 P.M.

 

          _Two weeks without seeing hide nor hair of her felt like waiting for the end of the world to come along. Like I was just going to wake up one morning to a world on fire, and see her through the flames cackling madly as they burnt her hair and skin away with their scalding kisses._

_Two weeks, and I hadn’t even heard of an uprising. I didn’t know where she went or what she was up to. For all I knew she’d skipped town; got out while the getting was still good. And I thought, good for her. She’s lucky._

_I wish I’d been brave enough to do that when I had the chance._

 

          The cement pad outside of Lloyd’s Auto-Mechanic Shop was slowly starting to cool off after baking in the direct sunlight for most of the day. It still retained and reflected a fair amount of heat, so that when you stood on it, you could feel the warmth crawl up your body and tickle the underside of your chin.

          Kylo was perfectly happy working inside the garage, away from the dying heat of the early summer. The slowly-setting sun poured in through the open door, casting everything in a faintly orange hue. The ancient radio over in the back corner rasped out the weekly weather forecast, the reporter’s voice marred by static but still somewhat understandable. Kylo was only half-listening to that racket, though. It was more for background noise than anything else. In fact, he wasn’t sure that radio had been shut off once in all the time he had been working there.

          He had worked at Lloyd’s for nine years of his life. It was almost like a second home to him; a refuge for when he just needed to get away and distract himself. The shop itself didn’t look like much. Located on the South Side and in operation since the mid-60’s, it was one medium-sized workshop attached to a tiny little office, with the large, antique sign which had never been altered hoisted up on a pole by the street. The pavement out front was cracked, the building looked like it had a slight lean to it, and the siding needed replacement. But Kylo liked it despite any structural flaws, and he liked the people he worked for. His boss, Reggie, was a fatherly-figure who had taken over the shop after his dad, Lloyd, had died. He had always been welcoming to Kylo, and nothing else. Even when everything went down with him getting kicked out of the Order, Reggie’s opinions on him didn’t change a bit. He knew Kylo was a good worker, and that was all that mattered. As it should be.

          Reggie had no real personal connections to the Order. His father had, before he passed. He would do mechanic work on the Order’s bikes for a low cost, provided that the gang made certain he wouldn’t go out of business any time soon. Reggie had migrated to the North Side after leaving home and tried to make his own mechanic business fly. It had, for a while. But then bigger names moved in as the North Side flourished, and Reggie’s shop died, leaving him no real alternative besides coming home. This all happened in the 1980s, and Lloyd’s health was quickly failing. So Reggie came back and took care of his dad and the shop. He lost his dad, but he refused to lose the shop.

          Then there was Brenda, the office administrator. She was always nice to Kylo, and she never asked too many questions – a trait he had to admire. She knew his coffee preference down to which brand he liked best, and she made sure to always have it made in time for his lunch break. She had her own checkered past, though you couldn’t tell by looking at her. She looked like anybody’s grandmother. But Kylo knew the truth. She had run with the Order back in its hay-day. She’d been attracted to the danger like a fly to honey, and she had been lucky to get out and survive to tell the tale. It didn’t define her, of course, but every time Kylo saw her the tale never failed to flit across his mind like a shadow over her matronly face.

          Kylo would do anything for those two people, as they had done for him time and time again. He had known them all his life – his father used to come to Lloyd to get work done on his bike all the time. A bike which now belonged to Kylo, who did all the maintenance on it himself.

          That’s what he was doing there after hours, as the sun set outside. He was kneeling on the floor, his white t-shirt and work jeans smeared with new and old grease and oil stains. He even had some smeared on his face because he so often forgot to wipe his hands before touching any part of his skin. But when he feels a bead of sweat trickling down his brow, his first instinct is to wipe it away, dirty hands or not. Wrench in hand, he was putting everything back together, having completed an oil change and tinkering with the exhaust pipes.

          God damn, he loved that bike.

          It was a 1996 Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide, and it had seen some shit. Five speed, with a V2 four-stroke engine, fully modified and restored with a matte black body and chrome accents, it was a sight of beauty all the same. It was the first and only bike Kylo had owned and he had no intentions of ever wanting a different one. This bike was more than just a set of pretty wheels to him. It had belonged to his deceased father, Han Solo.

          Han had bought it second-hand, barely used by its original owner, and he had driven it _everywhere_. He had owned other bikes before, when Kylo was a child, but they had always been pieces of junk that broke down constantly. Kylo could still fondly remember how his mother Leia had nearly had a conniption fit when Han told her he was buying the Dyna. What a screaming match that had been. To this day he still wasn’t sure that his father had actually won that argument, but he’d gotten the bike anyway, so he supposed it was a moot point.

          Kylo hadn’t quite been sixteen when his father bought the bike, so he didn’t even have his license to drive a car yet, let alone a motorcycle. But Han was all too willing to give his son lessons anyway, legal or not. He had taught Kylo how to ride a motorbike, and still to this day when Kylo mounted one he couldn’t help but hear his father’s voice in his mind’s ear, telling him to take it easy. _It’s not always a race…but sometimes it is, and on this baby, you’ll win every time._

          There was still a tear in the leather passenger seat, from when his father had been run off the road. He had crashed into the ditch and broken his right arm and clavicle, and yet he had been more concerned about the sanctity of his bike than his own body. Kylo had never felt right patching it up.

          He sighed and set the wrench down, carelessly dragging the back of his filthy hand across his forehead one more time. He didn’t care about the mess; in fact, he quite liked it. It meant he’d done something with his day. He’d worked. He liked working on cars and bikes and everything in between, and coming to Lloyd’s after hours to work on his own toys and think was a favourite pastime of his. It was kind of like a hobby for him. When he came to Lloyd’s to start his shift he was never angry about it. He often looked forward to the opportunity to disconnect from his body; to just shut his mind off for a while and work with his hands. Nothing illegal. Nothing he couldn’t solve. He could do it with his eyes closed. Most importantly, he could control it.

          He stood up, wiping his hands on the thighs of his old jeans, and walked over to the mini fridge in the back of the shop. The ancient machine hummed and wheezed in an effort to stay cold, a sound Kylo had grown to enjoy over the years. There was always two things in this fridge: pop and beer. If you wanted a water or a coffee, you went into the office, because you sure as hell wouldn’t find it out here.

          Kylo grabbed a beer bottle and used a nearby wrench to open it. The soft _sss-pop!_ of the carbonation escaping was music to his ears, and as the cold, golden liquid poured down his throat he felt a surge of relaxation sweep through him. His day was done. He could sit on the old, derelict leather bench and enjoy his beer, alone with his own thoughts, and then he could go home and be alone some more. He sighed. It was kind of depressing when it was phrased like that.

          He was distracted, playing with a beer cap, trying to pass it through all of his fingers on one hand, like a magician with a coin trick. It was slow-goings when a voice nearly made him jump out of his skin.

          “God, how do you find _anything_ in here?”

          He hadn’t even heard her walk up to the open garage door. But there she was, in all her resplendence, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, wearing a polka-dotted dress that went to her knees and a denim jacket. It had been two weeks since he’d seen her last, and somehow she had come back to him out of the ether, as if she had never gone away in the first place.

          “Rey…?” Kylo stuttered, unable to help the look of utter surprise on his face.

          Rey just gave him a pretty stare that simply said, ‘yes, and are you going to answer my question?’

          “Uh…well, I mean, it’s organized chaos,” Kylo explained, slowly rising from the bench.

          Indeed, the shop was a mess to anyone from the outside looking in. Open manuals from decades ago lay scattered along one work table; used, dirty rags and open tools along the other. Ropes and cords and ripped overalls hung from nails on the walls, the floor was covered in oil stains, and wooden signs and license plates hung askew as decoration.

          “I could tell you where everything is, for instance,” he went on. “But it wouldn’t make sense to you at all.”

          “No, I shouldn’t think it would,” she smirked, glancing about as she entered the garage. Her gaze landed on the drink in his hand. “Got a beer for me?”

          “Oh, uh—yeah, sure.”

          Kylo dutifully fetched her a beer and opened it for her. She took it with a kind ‘thank you’ and took a good long swallow. He watched her for a minute, still brewing in his puzzlement at her sudden appearance.

          “How did you know where to find me?” he asked, brow creasing.

          She grinned cheekily. “I saw a pay-stub on your fridge that night with this address on it. I went to your house but you weren’t there, so I figured you’d maybe be here.”

She shrugged then, like it was no big deal at all that she’d tracked him down like a well-trained bloodhound. And in truth, to her it didn’t seem like much. But Kylo, for all his experience, hadn’t even caught on to the fact that his pay-stub was still on the fridge door at all. His eyebrows raised in admiration at her small but significant action.

“I see,” he quipped, offering her a seat beside him on the bench. “And what did you need to find me for?”

Her fingers encircled the neck of the bottle as she searched for the words. He could see her throat working as she tried to cough them up. Whatever it was, it wasn’t easy for her to say, and that made him slightly nervous.

Without thinking, he blurted out, “Did somebody come after you?”

It was a knee-jerk reaction. He just assumed, after everything, that the First Order would be out hunting, and how did he know _for sure_ that all the incriminating evidence had been removed from Marcus’s house? He knew first-hand how the Order tied up its loose ends – he used to be the one to tie them.

“No, no,” she replied hastily, firmly shaking her head. “I haven’t had any trouble.”

“Oh,” Kylo breathed, wondering to himself why he should care even half as much as he did. “So what is it, then?”

A hard breath pushed past her lips, causing the few stray little hairs along her forehead to flutter upwards and then slowly, gracefully, fall back down. There was something in the way the dying sunlight touched her face that made Kylo’s icy black heart clench. He couldn’t explain it, and so he ignored it. But damn it if he didn’t wish, in the far repressed corners of his mind, that he could touch the swell of her cheekbone just like the sunlight did, and warm her through his fingers, and bring a whole new light to her face that wasn’t there before.

“I hope you don’t think this sounds as weird as I think it does,” she began, her voice an awkward lilt. “But I…well, you really helped me out that night when you absolutely didn’t have to. You could’ve just grabbed your weed and went on your merry way like nothing ever happened. But you didn’t. You saw me, and you stayed, and you got me out of there. I probably do owe you my life, as much as I’d like to refute that idea.”

Kylo smirked to himself.

“And…when I saw you the first time, I kind of knew that you were…you know…with the Order. I thought I recognized your, um…your scar.”

Kylo looked down at the beer resting in his palm atop his right thigh. Ah, yes. His scar. His defining physical trait that he loathed.

“Of course, I didn’t know who you were just then. But I immediately thought I should be afraid of you, or that I should get up and try to fight you off, because holy shit, I just killed this guy, and now an Order member walks in and in one glance has it all figured out. I thought I was screwed. …But those thoughts were way in the back of my head, barely making any noise at all. I just…saw the way you were looking at me, and for some reason I knew you wouldn’t hurt me. I just knew it. So I asked you to help me, and you did.”

Kylo sipped at his beer, but he didn’t really taste it anymore. He felt oddly uncomfortable, like there was a pit in his stomach that kept shifting around, jabbing at his insides with a dull knife. He never did get used to compliments and praise. They were things he received so rarely these days that they sounded very strange to his ears. He was more used to being yelled at, or corrected, or challenged.

Yes, he had chosen to help Rey, for reasons he still couldn’t understand completely. And yes, he had contemplated just turning around and leaving her there alone, but something had told him no. He couldn’t. He was meant to be there, with her. Helping her. Another thing he was not at all used to feeling. Compassion was one of those emotions that he had learned to refuse at a very early age, and needless to say, it had damaged him in irreversible ways. But for whatever reason, it resurfaced for Rey almost immediately, and he couldn’t push it back down no matter how hard he tried. But it was some comfort to know that she had experienced something similar. If only either of them knew what it meant.

“You’re…not at all what I thought you’d be,” she said, laughing lightly. “You’re like me.”

Kylo’s brow furrowed. “How so?” _I’m not an orphan, even if it felt like I was for most of my childhood._

She turned fiery eyes on him; eyes that were suddenly alive with recklessness.

“You hate this town, too, and the people in it,” she explained in an eerily calm voice. “You hate the Resistance, and the Order, for what they’ve done to you.”

_Oh. That._

Kylo shrugged, eyebrows rising in the universal expression for “yeah, I guess that’s true.”

“We can work together,” she whispered, a sense of urgency in her voice. “You and I…we can right all the wrongs of this town.”

Kylo scoffed. “It’s gonna take more than two outcasts to complete that job,” he said.

“So who says we can’t start it? I think we can do more damage than you give us credit for.”

“Oh, it’s ‘us’ now?”

Rey’s lips pressed together and she looked away from him as though scorned. For a girl who had spent much of her life alone, asking someone for help did not come easily to her. And Ren wasn’t making the task any simpler.

“Only if you want.” She muttered.

Kylo looked closely at her; this girl, who had practically fallen into his life, and was now tangled up in things she was too good to be faced with. _She shouldn’t have this life,_ he thought to himself absently. _She’s destined for other things. Better things. But I’m not._ With that kind of mentality, what did he have to lose? This town had rejected him; spat him up like last night’s supper, despite everything he had done to weave himself into the very fabric of its existence, so that he might be _something_ to _someone_. Nobody in this town cared about him. But Rey might. And if he could take the fall for her, if he could let this town crush him so she could escape, well then at least he’d know he did one good thing in his miserable life. Because he just couldn’t see himself allowing her to crumble into ruins at the hands of this town, not after he’d seen it so many times before. Not after he’d already gone through it. It was too late for him, but not for her.

Would she be angry, if she knew all that? Because she certainly wasn’t the type of woman who required saving by a man or anyone of any gender, ever. Would she be offended, knowing he felt such a sharp need to defend her? How would she tell him no? She wasn’t stupid. Kylo knew this town like the back of his hand, along with the people in it. He had experience, and an insider’s perspective. He was the single best ally she could ever hope to have in this situation, and she had to of come to that conclusion on her own, in the weeks following their first encounter. _Maybe that’s her angle,_ he pondered. _Maybe I’m not helping her. Maybe she’s using me to help herself. Well…that’s more than I can say for my own coping mechanisms, so…good for her._

 _Son of a bitch,_ he cursed, thinking of what this entailed for him. _I sure am dumb as fuck._

“Well?” she snapped, her voice an unusually high pitch. “Are you in or not? Your silence is really making me regret coming here.”

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards a bit as he took a casual swig from his beer.

“Is it?” he asked.

She grumbled incoherently. “You hate them all just as much as I do, don’t you?”

“If not more,” Kylo glowered.

Memories of Ol’ Snoke filled his brain like dense, toxic fumes. That man had _groomed_ Kylo; he’d been a predator, and Ben Solo had been his prey. The Order now continued to pick and choose and destroy to their leisure, following in Snoke’s footsteps. _I want to kill them all,_ said the dark voice in the back of Kylo’s mind. That voice, which belonged to the man he used to be. Kylo without any shred of humanity or compassion. Kylo the Black Dog. _I want to erase them, like they never existed._

“So are you in then?”

“I’m in,” he answered, casting a look down at her. “What have I got to lose, right?”

Rey grinned victoriously and tilted her bottle neck towards him so that he may clink his beer against hers in celebration. They were a team now, and there was no turning back. Whatever crazy adventures this girl had planned, Kylo was along for the ride. At the very core of it all, it just felt good to be chosen by somebody after spending so long being forgotten and ignored. Even if she ended up being totally crazy, or if this was just some great scheme meant to lure him to his death, he’d go along willingly, because he had little else to live for if he didn’t have a risk to take. Risks had been his lifeblood for eighteen years of his life and every day since he’d been removed from the Order had been a struggle not to start a bar fight or break any and every rule he could think of. But this was something new and exciting, something he had never thought of doing until Rey came along.

The two sat on the bench, side-by-side, drinking their beers and looking out the open garage door as the sky got slowly darker. An odd sense of peace had settled over them, but underlying it was a network of livewires, sparking and buzzing with life and danger. They saw it as nothing more than a fresh opportunity for change and deadly vengeance. It awakened their senses. It brought them to life. It connected their souls in ways they had never imagined possible, and would soon come to realize.

After a moment’s silence, Rey cleared her throat, once more looking awkward and uncomfortable. _She’s very obvious about it,_ Kylo thought idly. She fidgeted, wiggling on the seat, crossing then uncrossing her ankles, and her fingers were constantly tapping the bottle. This was a girl who did not bode well with confrontation, especially not of the semi-sentimental variety. A part of Kylo enjoyed watching her squirm.

“I do have one more question,” she mumbled, refusing to make eye contact.

“And what’s that?”

“Would you…I mean,” She winced, as though fumbling the words physically hurt her. “Right now, I’m kind of living out of a suitcase. I had to get away from my adoptive parents; they’re too tightly bound to the Resistance and if I stayed there, they’d be on to me by now. So I’m staying at a friend of a friend’s, but it isn’t the greatest, uh, situation.”

It didn’t take a genius to see where the conversation was headed. Kylo promptly cut her off, because although he may enjoy watching her squirm, he didn’t want to torture the poor girl.

“You can stay on my couch,” he replied. “I don’t have an extra bed, but I do have an extra, mostly-empty closet where you can put your clothes and things. I mean, you’ve seen my place. You know it’s not much. But if it’s better than where you’re at now, I guess getting out of there is your best choice.”

Her bright eyes landed on him, clearly enchanted by his attitude. She hadn’t been expecting that. Kylo felt kind of smug. He liked taking people by surprise.

“Really?” she exclaimed. “Oh, _thank you_. I promise I won’t be a burden, and if I am, you can absolutely kick me out. It’ll only be temporary, and I’ll pay you back somehow.”

Kylo smirked against the mouth of his beer bottle, taking the final sip to finish it off.

“I’m sure we can work something out.”  

Rey stretched in contentment, clearly pleased with having gotten that all over with. She could relax now. She could breathe. Strangely, Kylo felt much the same.

“Is that your bike?” she asked, tipping her bottle at it.

“Yeah, it’s mine.” He still felt that habitual need to say “it’s my dad’s, actually” every time someone asked him that. Something cold would pass over him, gone as quickly as it came.

“I like it,” she commented, standing up and walking around it, inspecting it from every angle. “It’s really pretty.”

Kylo laughed. “You don’t know much about bikes, do you?”

“Not a thing,” Rey admitted. “I know just enough to realize when I like one, though.”

“Well, in that case,” Kylo set his empty bottle aside and stood, taking the keys out of his pocket. “Wanna go for a ride?”

Rey’s entire face lit up and she looked like the angel atop a Christmas tree. She looked from Kylo to the bike and back again, a massive grin plastered upon her face.

“Can we?” she asked eagerly. “I’d love that.”

“Yeah, I just have to lock up, then we can go.” He handed her his helmet. “You might want to put this on.”

She plopped it on her head and adjusted the chin strap so it fit snugly, casting him a wary glance as she did so.

“Why do you say it like that? Do you plan on crashing it or something?” she asked.

Kylo smirked. “Never.”

That motorcycle was his baby, and he would never, ever hurt his baby.

          His bike roared to life beneath him with such a force it made tools piled on the work tables rattle, and Rey could feel it shake the floor under her feet. The sound of the exhaust snapping and growling out of the pipes crashed over her ears like a wave, temporarily muting the rest of the world. But she could see Kylo grinning as he twisted the throttle, and his joy was infectious. Before she knew it, a matching smile had appeared on her face, too.

          Kylo rarely rode his bike with a passenger, so the feeling was a little strange at first when Rey got on. Her thighs squeezed against the sides of his own, and her arms wrapped themselves so tightly around his waist it took all he had not to imagine them a little lower. He could feel her chest on his back, and as he pulled away from the shop and out onto the street, he could feel her holding her breath. But then they were on a straight empty road, and he could go faster and then a little faster still, and her grip on him lessened. He could just barely hear her laughing breathlessly behind him as the wind took hold of her ponytail and seeped through her open jacket. He remembered that joy. He remembered what it felt like, riding a bike for the first time; experiencing that rush of adrenaline and that intense desire for speed, washing over you like an intense high, making you feel deliriously happy and light and free. And he smiled, because he had long ago forgotten how good it felt to provide someone else with that same feeling.

          He slowed to a yield sign and then his hand tightened on the throttle, his foot let off the brake, and they took off like a shot into the quickly rising night. Rey yelped giddily in his ear, flopping forward against his back and reinforcing her hold on his midsection.

          He made sure to take the scenic route home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i loved writing this chapter. somewhere in my notebook there's a pen drawing of Lloyd's from the day i thought it up. i think it's kinda neat.
> 
> hopefully you liked this chapter as much as i liked writing it! please leave me a comment and/or kudos, i really appreciate every single one! and if you have any recommendations for tags and playlist songs, let me know over on my tumblr (@reylo-solo). Thanks for all the love and support so far!


	4. knife & needle

June, 2010

Kylo Ren’s house

7:41 P.M.

 

_She still doesn’t trust me, it’s obvious. I can see it in the way she looks at me when she thinks I can’t see her staring. Those narrowed, cat-like eyes that scorch me with their touch, analyzing my true intentions into dust. But I can’t say I really blame her. I wouldn’t trust me either, if given the chance. I’m a pretty awful guy, and I’ve proven it time and time again. But she’s an alright roommate. She’s got a good taste in television, and she knows when to shut up. But she doesn’t trust me. And I don’t fully trust her yet, either._

_But I’m getting there. I’m just not sure if I can say the same for her._

 

          The sun had set by the time Ren made it home from the gym. He still went there two to three days a week to blow off steam and keep himself in shape. Maybe, if he went there often enough, he’d eventually work up the balls to leave this town in the dust, like he should have done years ago. It was just a lot harder to leave than he’d thought it would be.

          When he was cast out, tensions in Fairview were immeasurably high. There had been the highest volume of homicides the town had ever seen that year. There were decaying bodies washing up on shallow shores, and strips of clothing or maybe even an appendage or two seen caught in the rocks along the river. The town was in the icy grasp of terror. It wasn’t a safe place to be. Parents no longer wanted to raise their kids there. There was a mass exodus of younger people, too afraid to stay any longer and risk getting caught up in the chaos. But this only created an unfavourable shift in the innocents-to-gang-members ratio.

          So he couldn’t have left. That’s what he told himself, anyway. His mother was there, still living in the North Side, still on the town council. A dangerous position to be in when enemies outweighed friends. And although they rarely talked anymore, he knew he would never forgive himself if something happened to her because of him. So he stayed, and he acted like a peacekeeper, as if it was absolution for his past sins. He might as well have wandered the streets, practicing self-flagellation and allowing the blood to drip down his back and legs and soak into the pavement for all the good it did him.

          And yet, he was still there. But now, finally, things were beginning to change.

          His headlights flashed as he locked his car, gym bag slung over one shoulder, hair still damp from the shower. He thought maybe he’d have a quiet night; play a video game and hit the hay. Rey wasn’t going to be back until later; she’d been off practicing at her own gym, where she had a personal trainer and did some weird, spiritual karate stuff. At least, that’s what Kylo had gleaned off the conversation.

          When he climbed the three steps to his front door, he had intended to put his key in to unlock it, but to his surprise, someone had done that already, and left the door ajar. Immediately his heart sank and he got that feeling again, the same one he’d gotten at Pearl Harbour and Marcus’s house. Something was off.

          All his senses were suddenly on high alert. He pushed the door open slowly and took a couple of steps inside, silently setting his gym bag down in the entryway. His eyes scanned the darkened rooms of his house for any sign of movement.

          “Rey?” he beckoned.

          He ran a hand along the edge of the wall until he felt the light switch. The entryway was suddenly flooded with yellow light, and still he saw nothing.

          “Rey, are you here?” he asked again.

          “No,” came a gravelly reply, “but I am.”

          Ren, facing into the kitchen, whirled around to see a tall, lithe man appear around the corner of the hallway. His skin a warm brown and covered in lude tattoos, the man had only the suggestion of dark hair upon his solid, round head. A chunk was missing from the tip of his left ear, the remnants had scarred over and curled inward. His eyes were the colour of a starless night sky; depthless and penetrating, it was like looking into the unseeing sockets of a skull. An imposing sight to be sure, but Ren was not afraid, only alarmed.

          “Toby?” he asked, eyes narrowing and hackles raising. “I thought you were in Portland.”

          Toby Garcia. A member of Marcus’s crew, and one of the top-dogs of the Pacific Northwest drug trade. He was wanted across three states. He’d been the one to broker the deal with Marcus to sell Kylo weed. He was always the one to text Kylo when his order arrived, because Marcus always thought the cops were spying on his text messages and phone calls.

          _Oh, shit._

“I was,” Toby answered, stepping ever closer into Kylo’s space. “But I’m not anymore. I had to come back for a funeral, you know.”

          “Okay, so what are you doing in my house?” Kylo demanded, his voice low. He knew where this conversation was headed already, and he wasn’t sure he was in the mood for it.

          “Well I tried knocking, but no one answered, so I just let myself in,” Toby explained, casually as you’d like. “Hope that’s alright.”

          “Can’t say it is,” Kylo grumbled. “What do you want so badly that it made you forget your manners?”

          “We got a problem, poochie,” Toby grinned, which only made him look even more like a reanimated skeleton. “See, somebody killed my boy, Marcus. Cops said it was gang related and left it at that. But we all know that’s not completely true.”

          “Do you all know that?” Kylo squinted. “When did you guys become crime scene investigators?”

          Toby’s lips pressed together in a stiff line for a moment as he bit back whatever retort he wanted to say in regards to Kylo’s arrogant humour.

          “We’ve been trying to figure it out,” he went on, circling Kylo, closing in on him. “He had lots of enemies and sure, it could’ve been any one of them. But there were no signs to direct the blame at any of those people. So I got looking a little closer. I went to his house and had myself a real good peek at things.”

          Kylo had been carefully leading Toby into the kitchen, so he could maybe grab a knife or his cast iron pan if nothing else. But then Toby paused, which made Kylo stop, too. The tension in the room rose past its boiling point. Kylo was practically crawling with apprehension.

          “Do you know what I found? You must know,” Toby explained, his once icy stare now a scalding glare. “After all, you were there, weren’t you? After I texted you, you went to his house to get your green. I know this because I looked where Marcus hides his stash, and I found lots of bags with lots of names on them, but yours wasn’t in there.”

          Kylo was pretty good at lying, or at least he liked to think so. He could make anything the truth if he tried hard enough to convince a person of it. He knew all the tricks, and they’d all come in handy over the years.

          He screwed up his face in a mixture of astonishment and confusion; the picture of clueless innocence. Even if Toby was beyond gone in his rage, it was always worth a shot to convince him he was crazy instead.

          “Are you seriously implying that I killed Marcus?” Kylo asked, shaking his head. “The only guy in town who will sell to me, and you think I’d kill him off?”

          “What’s stopping you? The First Order banned you from their ranks. Marcus was making moves with his business, getting closer to the club. This got you worried. Maybe you didn’t actually like Marcus. Maybe Marcus tried something on you that night and you lost it. All I know is, you were the last person there before anyone else arrived.”

          “Look, Toby, I don’t know who mixed Windex with your cocaine, but that shit will rot your brain right out of your skull,” Kylo scoffed. “You’ve got the wrong guy. Yeah, I got my weed from Marcus. And do you know who gave it to me? _Marcus_. When I left, he was still alive.”

          _“You motherfucking liar,”_ Toby spat. “You can con everyone else but you can’t con me, you piece of shit! I know you did it! You’re a _traitor_!”

          Kylo tasted blood. “I am _not_ ,” he snarled. “I never betrayed _anyone_.”

          “Is that so?”

Toby suddenly ducked into the living room and, amongst the shadows, Kylo saw him grab something. When he came stomping back and the light caught the jacket in his fist, Kylo’s heart went into his throat. Rey’s denim jacket, with the Resistance colours and patch on the back.

“Then what are you doing harbouring a fugitive North-sider?” He tossed the jacket at Kylo’s feet. A flash of silver by Toby’s hip and he had his knife out, aimed at Kylo’s throat.

“Never betrayed anyone, huh? Another lie,” Toby hissed. “I’d like to see you worm your way out of this one, dog.”

Kylo’s eyes fixed themselves on Toby’s knife, monitoring the muscles in the tattooed arm for any sign of a strike. He could feel the countertop behind him, but his knife block was on the other side of the kitchen. He was going to have to make a _very_ quick lunge for it.

“Rey? Is that what you said her name was?” Toby smiled viciously. “I’ll have to remember that. Shouldn’t be too hard to track her down. Then I can take both of you to Hux and he’ll decide what to do with you.”

Okay. That was it. He knew too much now. And Kylo had never forgotten what happened to people who knew too much.

“You really don’t want to do this, Toby,” he warned. “One of us will end up dead, and it won’t be me.”

“We’ll just have to see about that.”

Toby darted towards him, slashing a silver arc in the air between them. Kylo just missed it by jumping backwards, one hand behind him, searching blindly for the knife block. He kicked out with his foot and caught Toby’s thigh, forcing the man to bend forward with a light grunt. But he was too close to Kylo now, which meant he’d have to wait to arm himself, if he ever got a chance to.

While he was bent forward, Kylo used the sides of his fists to punch the top of Toby’s skull until his head snapped downwards, and then swiftly brought one knee up into Toby’s face, which emitted a satisfying crunching sound upon contact. Toby yelped and stumbled back, hand clutching at his nose which was dripping blood profusely. Kylo was fuming; his shoulders surged with anger, knuckles white. But Toby didn’t stay down for too long. He came at Kylo again and quickly dodged one swiping fist, aimed at the side of his head. He got one good shot in, catching the side of Kylo’s jaw, but Kylo didn’t make a sound. Yes, it hurt like hell, yes he bit his tongue _hard,_ and yes, it would probably bruise later. But he didn’t believe in giving an opponent any satisfaction, whether he won or lost.

Kylo lunged, but Toby was ready this time. The knife caught Kylo between his ribs on his right side; he felt its razor-sharp edge tear his flesh clean, and the warmth of the blood that seeped out soon after. It was like he’d been jabbed with a white-hot poker – it was a strangely vibrant kind of pain. Not a new sensation to him, but not one he’d felt in quite some time.

He groaned as the pain lanced through him and he faltered, one hand pressing tightly to his side, where a dark red stain was already growing on his shirt, spreading out like ink spilled on paper.

“Down, dog.”

Kylo looked up just in time to see Toby coming at him once more, this time with the tip of his knife aimed directly at Kylo’s chest. He had just enough time to jump to the left and get out of the way, which caused Toby to run into the edge of the countertop, and it gave Kylo a chance to reach over by the stove and grab the heavy cast iron pan that sat there. With one hefty swing, he lobbed it straight at Toby’s head. With a resounding _crack!_ he knew he’d met his mark square-on.

Toby crumbled to a heap on the ground, his knife slipping from his hand with a clatter and skidding to the fridge. Kylo, chest heaving as he panted, carefully placed the slightly-bloodied pan in the sink. A seemingly sensible act, given the situation, but his mind was not making any sort of sense. It was running wild with worst-case scenarios.

That had been a close-call. Too close for Ren’s liking.

Slowly, he knelt down to feel for a pulse. It was faint, but it was there. That wouldn’t do. He had to die, he knew too much. A loose end was a dead end. If Kylo left him as is, Toby still posed a risk to Rey, and Kylo couldn’t allow that. All these old habits and mannerisms that still haunted him from his time as an enforcer for the Order came back in full force, and he was powerless against their will.

He moved as though his actions were not of his own design. Picking Toby’s knife up from the ground, he held it aloft, and watched it as it caught the light from the entryway, which made it gleam white-gold. And then he swiftly brought the tip to the back of Toby’s head, and pressed down hard.

It forced its way through his skull and into his brain like it was meant to be there. Toby emitted a raspy breath, and then was still. Then Kylo sat back, spat out the blood from his tongue, and looked at what he’d done.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that before the front door opened and Rey walked in. He just remembered the sound of her own gym bag hitting the floor, along with her muffled scream as she took in what had happened in the kitchen.

“Oh my god…oh my god,” she repeated, warily stepping closer. “Who…how? Why?”

Kylo stood laboriously, using the edge of the counter for support. The wound in his side protested angrily to his movement and he winced, grasping it. The pain had gone numb for a while there as he had looked at Toby’s dead body. But now that Rey was back, Kylo was awake, and so were his senses.

“You’re hurt,” she observed, eyes going wide as she noticed the sizeable blood stain on his shirt.

“I’m fine.” Kylo mumbled.

“I highly doubt that,” Rey replied sternly. “Are you at least going to explain to me who this is and why he’s dead in your kitchen?”

“His name’s Toby,” Kylo said dully, wiping a bit of blood from his lip with the back of his hand. “He worked with Marcus.”

Rey went rigid. “Oh.”

“Yeah. He knew I was going there to pick up weed and when he didn’t see my baggie there he figured I was the one who did Marcus in and came after me. He was here when I got back from working out.”

“Oh…” Rey’s shoulders suddenly slumped and her fingers began to twitch against her thighs. Slowly, she bent down and picked up her denim jacket, fingers tracing the Resistance symbol sewn to the back. “This is all my fault…”

“No,” Kylo shot back. There was enough force in his voice to cause Rey to jump just a little and look at him. “It’s not your fault at all.”

“But I—”

“But nothing. This was a loose end I should’ve thought to tie up before but I didn’t even think about it. I didn’t even catch on – anyway, it’s not your fault. We’ll have to get rid of the body in a bit, when it’s late enough.”

“Where will we take it?” Rey asked. Her eyes kept darting to the body warily, as though it was going to come back to life at any second.

“I know a place,” Kylo admitted begrudgingly.

The cut in his side was really starting to sting. Every time his shirt brushed against it, it hurt. He tried to apply more pressure with his fingers but that only made it hurt worse. He growled in discomfort, causing Rey to turn her attentions to him.

“At least let me help clean you up,” she suggested. “Does it need stitches?”

“I don’t know,” Kylo shrugged, turning away from her. He wasn’t one to welcome help most days. “It’s not that bad. He just nicked me.”

“Just nicked you?” Rey raised a sceptical brow. She pulled one of the chairs out from the kitchen table and pointed a finger at the seat. “Take your shirt off and sit down. I’ll get my medical kit.”

“You have a medical kit?” Kylo asked.

“First-Aid kit, whatever you want to call it,” Rey grumbled, walking to the living room to search for something in her bag. She quickly found it: a blue vinyl case, almost like a small satchel bag, and it was full of stuff.

“I took two years of medical school,” she explained, opening it on the table and sorting through it. She began to pull out rubbing alcohol, gauze, a hooked needle, and thick thread.

“Only two?” Kylo inquired. He tried not to groan as he took off his shirt, being careful not to raise his right arm.

“Yes,” Rey said coldly. “I realized I didn’t like it.”

“Mm, no judgement here,” Kylo sighed, tossing his bloodied shirt on the ground.

Rey looked him over, and he could see her struggle to look away. Her eyes followed the fine line of his facial scar to where it ended at the top of his chest, and then fell to the puckered old wound on his opposite shoulder, with an almost identical one on his left side. When she cast her eyes downward she looked almost ashamed of herself, and some warm colour burned in her cheeks.

Kylo sat where she had told him to, perched backwards on the chair, and watched her go about her business. She washed her hands thoroughly in the sink, careful to avoid both the body and the pan as she did so, before she wandered over to him and knelt down to inspect the cut. Her fingers were warmed from the water she had held them under, but as she prodded the incision he couldn’t help but wince. He wasn’t used to being touched, not anymore. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him with anything but violence.

“Well, you’re right. It isn’t terrible, but you’ll still probably need at least five stitches,” Rey sighed.

“Still better than the forty-some staples I had to get in my face,” Kylo grumbled.

“Yes, well…I don’t know about that. Unfortunately I don’t have any kind of local anaesthetic, so…”

“So I’ll feel everything.”

“Yes.”

“Fine by me, but you’d better get my whiskey out of the top shelf, above the stove. For comfort purposes.”

She rolled her eyes but did as he asked of her. He took a swig immediately, choosing to focus on the burn of alcohol in his throat and belly rather than the stinging burn of the angry wound in his side.

She began to dab at the wound with a cotton ball soaked in rubbing alcohol. That hurt, but Kylo stayed perfectly still, keeping his elbows draped over the back of the chair, his chin propped up on one forearm. He cast his eyes down so he could see her a little better. Her skin was a little pale, but other than that she seemed alright. She took the needle and thread off the table next and he watched her bend her head to her task. She had such long, fine eyelashes, and a lovely spray of fawn-coloured freckles on her nose. He took another drink from the bottle.

“Okay,” she said gently, “this will hurt.”

Kylo took a deep breath and let it out. “Lay it on me.”

A needle pulling a thread through one’s skin is not a sensation for the weak of stomach. Kylo grit his teeth and bared it, though. He’d felt worse. And besides, her touch was gentle, it was the needle that was not. He found himself quickly growing used to the fact that she was touching him, even the barest amount. Any awkwardness had slipped away, or maybe that was the whiskey talking. He took another drink for good measure.

“You have some interesting tattoos,” she mused, in an effort to distract him. “What’s the date in the ribbon on your bicep for?”

“That’s my mother’s birthday,” Kylo said, squeezing his eyes shut as she pushed the needle through again. “I have my father’s on my other arm, and the date of his death.”

“Oh,” Rey whispered. She carefully pulled the thread taught and tied it. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah.”

It’d been almost five years since Han’s passing, and at the time of his death, he and his son didn’t speak at all.

“Well, I like the dagger and the rose on your forearm there,” she said, gesturing to his left arm. “Very traditional.”

“This was my first tattoo,” he said, running his index finger down the length of the dagger’s blade. “No real story behind it. Just thought it looked cool.”

“It does,” Rey answered.

Her eyes darted to his back, where his biggest tattoo was. It commanded the eye. It was a large black dog, coiled in a C-shape, teeth bared in a vicious snarl, long, scarred snout pointed down his right shoulder blade, before a large, crimson First Order symbol. The eyes of the dog were yellow fire, glowing evil, with golden-tinged smoke trails bleeding from them, coiling past the dog’s ears. If he shifted, if he moved his shoulders, the dog moved, too, as if it could jump from his skin and attack.

“Why didn’t they black out your back piece?” she asked curiously. She was also aware it may not be a question he would want to answer. But he did, reluctantly.

“They ran out of ink.” he said dryly. That wasn’t the _actual_ reason, and they both knew that. But Kylo said nothing more about it, and Rey chose not to push the matter.

He had one more tattoo that she could see: a greyscale Death’s Head angel skull just below his navel. But Rey didn’t ask about that one. She didn’t want him to know she’d looked there.

She cleaned up the fresh blood from his sutured wound and put gauze over it, securing it with adhesive medical tape. Then she stood, and went about cleaning up her supplies.

“We’ll have to put a fresh dressing on it every day, but I think you’ll survive,” she said.

“Thanks,” Kylo stood slowly and took one more drink before capping the bottle and putting it on the table. “I appreciate it. Hopefully you won’t have to do it again for a while.”

“Yeah…” Rey fell oddly silent. Kylo looked at her, and wondered where her mind had wandered off to this time.

“You’re not feeling sorry for yourself, are you?” Kylo asked somewhat rudely, his personality made more standoffish by her obvious ability to care.

“Well it is my fault,” Rey muttered, steel in her voice. “And you got injured because of my recklessness.”

“It was the wrong place and the wrong time,” Kylo said. “That’s all.”

“Is it, though?” Rey demanded, eyes boring holes into Kylo’s.

“I’m telling you it is,” Kylo replied, not breaking away from the hold her gaze had him in. “You and I are in this together now. If this little episode should tell you anything, it should tell you that.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“I killed him for you,” Kylo spat, “to protect you. He was going to come after you, so I made sure he wouldn’t.”

She was stunned into silence. Her jaw went slightly slack and she looked at him through a fresh lens. _Yes,_ Kylo thought grimly. _See me for the monster that I am. I am a violent man. I am rough, and I don’t take prisoners. The sooner she realizes that, the easier this is going to be._

“Does that make you want to run away from me?” he asked, stepping closer to her. He towered over her, blanketing her in his shadow.

“Do I scare you now?”

Rey closed her mouth, lips tightening into a hard line. Her eyes steeled over and she stuck her chin out a ways. It made Kylo want to grasp that stubborn chin in his fingers and hold it there.

“No,” she answered firmly, “you don’t.”

He scoffed; a rough sound in his throat. His lips twitched into a humourless smirk that faded quickly.

“I will. Eventually. I always do.”

***

_The Woods_

_Southeast Fairview_

_12:09 A.M._

Rey sat cross-legged next to the Coleman lantern which was lighting Kylo’s way as he dug an impromptu grave for Toby and watched him. His muscles tensed and flexed beneath his skin as he pierced the earth with his shovel and moved the dirt. A bit of it was smeared across his nose, and a fine gleam of sweat along his collarbones reflected the dim yellow glow of the lantern. She hadn’t spoken in a very long time, but neither had he.

          The dead body in question still remained in the trunk of Kylo’s car, wrapped in an old musty quilt. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Toby’s face, frozen in the icy realm of death, tattooed on the backs of her eyelids. Kylo could tell. He kept casting peremptory glances her way as he went about his work. He had seen her wince, more than once, and squeeze her eyes tightly shut, as if the flares and flashes of lights that would appear would make the haunting image leave her head. He wanted to tell her it wouldn’t work. He wanted to tell her that Toby’s face would follow her for weeks and live in her every nightmare. But she already knew all of that, after Marcus. She knew what it meant to kill and to die, and to have to hide the evidence afterwards. This was just another red-handled switchblade, sinking down to the bottom of the river. It would not be the last.

          He wanted to tell her that, if it was any comfort, they were burying the body in a safe place, somewhere no one would find it, or go looking for it. He’d brought them out to the old asylum graveyard on the southeast end of town, mostly overtaken by the surrounding woods. This was just a little clearing now of softly rolling hills, where hundreds (if not thousands) of unmarked graves remained from the time when it was a burial ground for the forgotten and insane. The old hospital’s foundation could still be viewed if one desired to follow the overgrown pathway to its crumbling existence. Kylo didn’t need to see it. The simple knowledge that this was the final resting place for so many people who had been left to die by their own families was good enough for him. Years ago, when he’d been taxed with hiding the evidence for the Order, this is where he had turned to. It was hidden, off the beaten track, and no one would go there to dig anything up. Everyone knew there were bodies buried out here. That was enough to keep them away, for the most part. Only the odd teenager or thrill-seeker came out here now. And, of course, the odd gang member with a dead body in his car.

The grave was almost deep enough. Kylo was properly sweating now; he could feel his shirt clinging to his back. It felt like his fingers had seized up around the handle of the shovel. It had been a long time since he had had to dig a grave.

“How many times have you had to do this?” Rey suddenly asked, as though she had been following his same train of thought.

Her question startled him, and he paused, staring down into the darkness of the hole he’d just created. It looked back at him and appeared to yawn, opening its vast, craterous mouth, waiting for his offering; willing to take him as such, if he looked into it too long or too hard.

Kylo finally shrugged, tearing his eyes away from the grave and hopping out of it. He could never get out fast enough.

“A few,” he muttered in reply.

“And how many is ‘a few’?”

“More than one, less than fifty.”

“That doesn’t narrow it down at all and you know it.”

“I do. That was the point.”

Rey sighed and pushed herself off the ground, following him over to his car to retrieve the body. Kylo opened the back driver’s door and grabbed Toby’s feet, pulling him out until the dead man’s backside fell out of the car onto the ground.

“Grab under his shoulders,” Kylo instructed.

She did as he asked, struggling only a little to get a good hold on Toby. Kylo didn’t think he’d be too heavy; the guy had maybe weighed three pounds soaking wet. But dead weight was always different. It was heavier in a different way, and far more uncomfortable to bear. It was like carrying a casket at a funeral – they both just wanted to be free of their burden as quickly as possible.

Rey fumbled a bit as they dropped him into his grave and Toby’s head bounced off the edge of the earth before his body landed with a dull thump somewhere in the pitch-black hole at their feet.

Rey winced. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” Kylo said, grabbing the shovel again. “He’s already dead.”

She sighed in resignation. The weariness of her eyes spoke to her troubled mind. She stretched a hand out towards Kylo, silently asking for the shovel.

“It’s my turn,” she said. “I can do it.”

Kylo said nothing and just handed it over. She filled the grave and didn’t ask any more questions for the rest of the night.

But Kylo could see she was looking at him just a little differently now. He could feel her eyes on him when his back was turned and he couldn’t help but wonder if her gaze wasn’t tracing the snarling muzzle of his tattoo, or if she was simply lost in thought about exactly how many graves he’d had to dig in his lifetime.

Toby’s death had changed her opinion of him, and it had made everything far more real than perhaps she was prepared to deal with. But if that was the case, she hid it too well for him to know the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw their first time burying a body together, how sweet :') I hope you guys liked it, please let me know in a comment if you did! Every little bit counts towards me keeping inspired enough to write these things. 
> 
> Updates might slow down a touch for this story (i.e. not weekly). They'll be a bit sporadic. I'm just kinda going with the flow at this point but I have enough chapters pre-written at the moment to do weekly updates. Just a heads up for the future!
> 
> As always, send me song recommendations for the Spotify playlist and tags for the story! Also check me out on tumblr @reylo-solo and we can be friendsss :)


	5. traitor

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=Md6lHlhwRdCiz4hPk2eU-g)

 

Late June, 2010

Northeast Riverbank

Kylo’s car

2:12 P.M.

 

          _It’s harder than I thought it would be to go about my day as I normally would with her around. She works most evenings and nights as a waitress at a bar not far from here. That’s the time when I get to be alone. But when she’s here, she’s either sleeping or deeply lost in her own thoughts, and I find myself constantly tip-toeing around her even when she’s awake; trying to give her as much space and privacy as I can afford. But we still don’t talk too much, and rarely do our conversations stray from our Great Plot. It makes for a slightly tense atmosphere._

_At the very least, it meant she hadn’t taken my advice about not going into this half-cocked lightly. Now her moves were calculated and planned. She knew where she wanted to begin._

_If she had started to take my advice, maybe that was a sign she had started to trust me. I don’t know why I need her to trust me so badly, but I do. I need to know this isn’t all a lie, and I’m not caught in a trap. If she is willing to open up to a point where she is vulnerable to me, a point where I could hurt her, and she would let me…then I would know this was real._

          Rey was nervous, that much Kylo knew for a fact. And why shouldn’t she be? She was walking back into the midst of the Resistance, willingly. Maybe they’d be able to smell him on her, like some sort of enemy-sniffing dogs.

          Ren kept his cool on the drive into the far north end, for the most part. He caught himself several times with his jaw clenched, or with his hands too tight on the steering wheel, and had to remind himself to relax. But it was hard not to tense up this far into north Fairview. Great fancy buildings seemed to grow from the cement towards the sky, with top-to-bottom windows. The houses were bigger, fancier. The yards were well-kept, every bush and tree trimmed to kill, and every lawn carefully mowed. Every now and then they’d drive past an alley, or a small row of shops, and it wouldn’t be hard to find the Resistance symbol, either spray-painted or in poster form, on the walls. It was like a great, vibrant orange light flashing, reminding everyone who took care of this part of town – who _really_ ran this place, as well as who wasn’t welcome.

          The First Order colours were relentlessly mocked. They were crossed out, drawn over with silly faces, and spat on. As he drove past the cop shop, he eyed the large poster board they had out front, which showcased all the most wanted criminals, as well as the missing person’s flyers. Kylo smiled grimly at it. In the Order, it was like a rite of passage to get your mugshot on that board. Kylo had his face up there, for crimes he’d long ago been pardoned or punished for. You’d do something bad, you’d get taken to jail, the club would bail you out, and once your photo was up they’d all get drunk with you. That’s just the way it was. A mugshot was like gaining a purple belt in jui jitsu. Something to celebrate.

          They were getting close now. Rey’s fingers were playing a relentless beat on her knee, and that crease between her eyebrows hadn’t diminished since they’d left Ren’s house.

          “You shouldn’t have come with me,” she sighed, staring hard out the window. “This was a bad idea.”

          “Too late to turn around now,” Kylo muttered bitterly. “Besides, it would’ve been even dumber of you to come by yourself.”

          “I’m not a damsel in distress!” she snapped. “You don’t need to keep trying to protect me.”

          Kylo scoffed. “Who said that’s what I’m here for?”

          “Then what _are_ you here for?” Rey grumbled.

          “I just want to see what they’re up to over here,” Kylo answered honestly. “I want to see who works for them. Maybe I’ll recognize someone who could know something.”

          Rey rolled her eyes. “Sure. If that’s the excuse you want to go with.”

          “It’s not an excuse, it’s—”

          “Shh, I got a text,” She silenced him with her index finger and used her other hand to open the message on her phone.

          She’d been texting some kid named Finn, a friend of hers from the Resistance, trying as discreetly as possible to meet with him. “He’ll be the only one really worried about where I am,” she had said. And Kylo had begrudgingly let her initiate the plan, because they needed to start somewhere, and he’d be damned if he’d head back into his dark and dreary old world before he knew without a shred of a doubt that this wasn’t pointless.

          “He’s meeting me out behind the clubhouse,” she explained. “Make sure you park behind that little grove of trees, like we talked about.”

          “Yes, ma’am,” Ren quipped, turning the corner onto Teller Avenue.

          He slipped through an alley and came out behind the two-storey bakery and fudge shop that also served as the Resistance’s meeting place. Their space was on the upper level, and below was their “official” business. Because what’s a better way to cover up your misdeeds and crimes than a little bit of sugar and chocolate?

          Kylo felt strangely empty as he parked where Rey told him to, well-hidden behind a thick grove of trees, but he could still kind-of see the back door through the leaves and branches. He turned off his engine and sighed.

          “You’ve got fifteen minutes,” he said clearly.

          Rey paused, her hand on the door handle, and narrowed her eyes.

          “Excuse me? Am I being timed now?”

          “I’ll be keeping my eye on the clock,” he said. “If you’re not back in fifteen minutes, I’m going to assume they did something to you and I _will_ come looking for you, which is something I think we’d all like to avoid.”

          Rey swallowed, glaring at him, but she knew he was right. If they were going to do this, they had to realize that they faced threatening situations at every turn and they didn’t have a whole lot of wiggle room for carelessness. They were in this together, after all. They needed to look out for one another now, but they still needed to be discreet about it. If Kylo Ren showed his face in front of Finn outside the Resistance clubhouse, this could all be over. Their cover would be blown and Rey’s plot, along with their tepid alliance, would cease to exist.

          “Fifteen minutes.” Kylo repeated himself, sensing her begrudging agreement. Then, he fixed his eyes on the back door and didn’t shift his gaze an inch.

          She didn’t say a word but instead stepped out and left him alone in the car with his thoughts.

          It wasn’t long before her friend joined her outside. Kylo watched her embrace him and realized she was very good at playing her role. This Finn was smiling and talking animatedly with her, as old friends do. He only wished he could hear what they were saying more clearly. Both the driver and passenger windows were open, but Kylo only caught snippets of their conversation, the breeze carrying the rest of it out of earshot.

          “Where’ve you been…?”

          “…went out of town…”

          “…missed you…”

          Yeah, they seemed real chummy. _I guess it’s a good thing. There’s less suspicion that way._ But he’d be lying if he said being so deep in Resistance territory, so close to their despicable hive, wasn’t making his skin crawl.

          He’d been trained to believe that this was the centre of all evil. Trained to think that the Resistance had been formed by a bunch of scared adults, too ensconced in their lackluster, suburban lives, and too afraid of the threat of change that the First Order represented. He had been made to believe that the Resistance existed solely to oppose the Order and stand in the way of Snoke, and Ren, and all the rest of them. He’d grown up in a world where, if you saw the dead body of a North Sider, you spat on it.

          So, yeah. He was a feeling a little out of his depth.

          His shoulders straightened attentively as someone else joined Finn and Rey outside. A shock of dark, shaggy curls, perfectly coiffed atop a regal head, coiling down over cappuccino skin. Thick eyebrows, dark-rimmed eyes…Kylo recognized that face. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

          A dark, bloodstained memory whipped across his mind’s eye and chilled him like the wail of a ghost, whose phantom scratch made the right side of his face tingle in little pinpricks of pain. A crowded, smoky bar, a brawl, shattered glass and a switchblade…those _damn_ switchblades and their shiny enamel handles. The resounding _click_ of its ignition the last thing he heard before the pain took hold and blood ran into his eyes, hot and stinging.

          He needed to get closer. He needed to know for sure.

          Slowly, so as not to make any noise, he opened his car door and stepped out. His eyes never left the trio by the door. He was like a tiger in tall grass, stalking his prey, learning all he can about their every movement before he pounces.

          He left the door open and walked, crouched, around the front of his car, peering out from between the wiry branches of the trees. Rey hugged this man, too, and the sight of it made Ren’s blood breach the boiling point. _Dameron._ Kylo had thought him to be dead, or moved on from this place at the very least. But there he was, undeniably in the flesh, alive and well.

          Kylo watched Dameron’s fingers linger on the Rey’s shoulder and that alone was enough to make him want to burst out from behind the trees and start a fight. _I should have killed you years ago,_ Kylo thought poisonously. _Oh, please, give me a reason to kill you now._

          But he didn’t. He just talked in hushed tones to Rey with that perpetually concerned look on his face.

          “…thought they got you…” he was saying. “…you were dead.”

          Rey shook her head and said something back.

          “Don’t,” Kylo urged under his breath. “Don’t talk to him.”

          _You’re too good to talk to him._

          But then they were saying their goodbyes, and he had to get back in his car before Rey returned, lest she accuse him of not having faith in her, or not thinking she could handle herself, or some other nonsense. He backed up slowly and took his seat, not closing the door all the way. His hands reaffirmed their grasp on the steering wheel, a little too tightly.

          When Rey got back she looked more closed-off than usual. Meeting with two relics from her recent past had stirred something up deep inside of her, Kylo could tell. Her lips were pressed a little too firmly together, and her eyes saw him but didn’t really see him, they just cut straight through. She noticed his tension just as fast as he noticed hers.

          “Something up?” she asked, gesturing to where his hand white-knuckled the wheel.

          He relaxed, unclenching his jaw and letting his arms and shoulders slacken, in an instant. He crossed an arm over to grab his seatbelt and firmly closed his door while he was at it.

          “No,” he replied curtly. “Did you get what you needed?”

          “I think so,” she sighed. “There’s a party tonight, in the old brewery off Sixth. The Resistance and All Their Friends.” She said it with a hint of poison-laced mockery.

          “I take it we’re going?”

          “ _I’m_ going, not you.”

          “That hardly seems fair. Why do you get to have all the fun?”

          “Because your version of fun is probably far more deadly than what’s necessary.”

          The corner of Kylo’s mouth twitched. He wasn’t about to deny it.

          “You can wait outside for me,” she muttered quietly, as if she didn’t really want him to hear it. Didn’t want to admit out loud that she needed his help, or at the very least, the comfort of knowing he was close-by.

          “I’ll be there,” Kylo said, and he watched her relax into her seat out of the corner of his eye.

***

         

_The Old Stoneman’s Brewery_

_North Side_

_11:16 P.M._

The smoke of the joint left that familiar burn in Ren’s nose; that sensation inside his lungs as it infiltrated their channels, gently, barely, suffocating. As he exhaled, it kissed his lips and floated off, caught by the night breeze; whisked away until it was no longer visible. He stared up, up at the night sky, at the distant, twinkling stars and satellites, and thought that if he looked hard enough, he almost got that lurching feeling in his gut, as though he was falling off the earth.

          The sounds of the party were not far-off. The thumping music was muted only by the thick brick walls of the brewery. Voices, laughing, screaming, hoarse voices, travelled to him on the air, creating a cacophony of barely distinguishable noise. It sounded like a good time, apart from all the Resistance cronies lurking around.

          And there was Kylo, lying on the leather seat of his Harley across the street in a dead parking lot, faithfully waiting for the return of his master, a former “Resistance crony” herself. Waiting, like a good dog.

          He sighed. Rey had seemed kind of eager to go to the party and see all her old friends again. She’d gotten all dressed up and pulled her hair back. She’d looked pretty, and happy. As they’d left Kylo’s house he’d begun to wonder if she had forgotten this was all a rouse and not the real deal. But all she spoke about once the engine was cut and they were in the parking lot was the plan; she went over and over what she was going to ask and who she was going to target. Clearly, she hadn’t forgotten anything.

          “I need answers about my parents, Kylo. I know any number of the people at this party will have them. If I can just find out who was there the night they were murdered, I can at least get an idea of who may have done it.”

          “Yeah, well. Don’t get your hopes up too high.” He’d warned her because he’d hate for her to feel like she had failed if she didn’t get the answers she sought. It just wasn’t always as easy as the old saying went: “ask and ye shall receive”.

          “I’ve got a good feeling,” Rey had replied earnestly, disregarding his pessimistic comment. “I think this might work.”

          _I think._ It could just as easily be a waste of time, but of course he couldn’t outright say that to a girl whose parents had been killed. Whatever the good feeling was that she had, Kylo didn’t share it.

          She had tried to hide a smile as she turned away from him to cross the street. He had just barely caught it. She may hate the Resistance and say that she wants to bring about their downfall, but she had undeniable history there, with them. They were the only family she’d ever known. Surely there were some people that she had missed, despite their affiliations with her parent’s murderers. She sure had missed that Finn kid, anyway. Ren idly wondered who he was and decided he must be a fairly new recruit; he’d never seen him around before.

          Before…when he had kept tabs on all Resistance members, and their families. Before he was kicked out of the Order for something he didn’t do.

          Ren couldn’t swallow the overwhelming idea that Rey had no idea what she was getting herself into. And so what did that make him, for he was doing nothing but fanning the flames of her anger? He had a tendency to do that to people; to make them connect with the darkest parts of themselves until they became lost in their own hate. Most famously, he’d done it to himself, years ago. He grimaced. He would not allow himself to ruin her. If this went south, he’d talk her down from the ledge as best he could. Former Resistance fighter or no, she was sunshine in a fucking bottle; pure and bright and warm and _alive_. He felt no desire to watch her be poured down the drain, and he couldn’t even explain to himself why that was.

          Suddenly the voices from the party weren’t voices anymore. They were screaming, angry roars and yelps. Kylo sat bolt upright and froze, still as a statue, listening. The yelling was coming from the brewery, that much he knew. What it was about or who it involved, he had no idea. It was this that made him jump off his bike and take off running. _What if it’s Rey?_

          He crossed the road and bounded around parked cars until his eyes found a back door. It opened with a creak that he felt more than heard over the raucous noise of the party and the fight. He pulled his hood up over his baseball hat, because that constituted a good disguise, he thought.

          It was dark inside the brewery, and it smelled musty, with a faint tinge of alcohol on the air, although that may have just been from the current state of events. The only light was that of the flashing strobes and twirling disco ball twinkling from the ceiling. There were bodies everywhere; sweaty bodies, skin-to-skin, dancing and stumbling into one another, only their outlines visible to Kylo as his eyes swept across the crowd, looking for any sign of Rey.

          Stupid people were bumping into him carelessly, not even noticing who he was in the darkness of the brewery, not even caring, just wanting someone else to rub up against. He shoved about five of the annoying bastards away from him before he finally caught sight of her, and of course she was right where he pegged her to be: in the midst of the chaos. She seemed to be holding her own against two other girls and a formidably-sized male, which was admirable at the very least, but he could hardly call what she was doing “looking for answers”.

          He reached into the fray and grabbed her by the elbow, pulling her sharply away. She twirled around in his grasp, punching and snarling, before she looked up and realized who he was. Her eyes went wide and her jaw slackened.

          “What are you doing?!” she yelled, wrenching her arm from his hand.

          “What are _you_ doing?!” he snarled, ducking his head down closer to hers so she may hear him better. “What happened to not drawing attention to yourself?”

          “Hey!” Another voice added to the confusion.

          Both Rey and Ren paused and swivelled their heads to the right, only to see Poe Dameron and Finn staring at Kylo, wide-eyed with recognition as a bright strobe light threw the scar on his face into sudden relief. His cover was blown, but he wasn’t mad about it. If anything he was thrilled to get the chance to retaliate for what Dameron had done to him all those years ago.

          Quickly, Kylo grabbed Rey’s hand and swiped a full wine bottle off a table nearest them before pulling the girl back out the door he’d came in. Then he darted off to the side of the entrance and waited in the shadows.

          His prey was not far behind. They both came rushing out of the door, nearly stumbling over one another in their hurry, stunned eyes scanning the darkness of the night before landing on Rey.

          “Where is he?” Dameron snapped, pointing a finger at Rey’s nose. “Did you bring him here?!”

          “I…” Rey didn’t know what to say, or do. She fumbled and blinked and looked rather shell-shocked by the whole thing.

          “Rey wouldn’t do that…would you, Rey?” Finn asked modestly, but his tone wavered, betraying his uncertainty.

          “Believe it or not, she so would,” Kylo chirped up, emerging from the darkness like a vampire, wine bottle behind his back.

          Poe and Finn’s heads snapped in his direction and Kylo took particular joy in the shock upon their faces. It only lasted a second though before Finn backed away and Poe straightened, his cat-like eyes narrowing into angry slits.

          “You,” he growled, low and dangerous. He stalked towards Kylo, one hand reaching in the back pocket of his jeans.

          Kylo smirked. “Long time no see.”

          The wine bottle was a bright white arc in the air as it caught the moonlight. It connected with Poe’s skull with a sickening _crack_ , and the glass shattered, and wine poured over Poe’s dazed face like blood before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

          Rey screamed sometime during this and her hand flew to her mouth. Finn yelled something but Kylo didn’t catch it. He was too busy grinning like mad at what he’d just done. He’d forgotten how good it felt to knock somebody out cold.

          “Help! _Somebody help!_ ” Finn was screaming into the open doorway, his stunned voice too quiet to be heard over the pitch of the music.

          Kylo looked at him and, still holding half a broken wine bottle in his hand, advanced on him. He raised his makeshift weapon over his head, meaning to strike his face, but Rey got in between them and she glared daggers up at Kylo.

          “Don’t you dare.” It was not a warning, it was a threat.

          Kylo huffed, disappointed by her interference. But he would listen to her and do as she asked, because this was her renegade mission more than it was his.

          “What do you propose we do with him, then?” Kylo asked through clenched teeth. “We can’t very well leave him here, can we?”

          _“‘We’?”_ Finn asked loudly.

          “I know, I know,” Rey sighed, idly chewing on her nails. “We’ll take him with us. You’ll come with us, won’t you, Finn?”

          _“‘Us’?”_ he repeated. “What are you…you’re not—you’re not _here_ , with _him_ , are you?”

          “I…I’ll explain everything, I promise. But you need to come with us. Please.” Rey begged. She sounded like a teacher trying to calm down a panicking child. It almost made Kylo laugh. Almost, but he didn’t feel like risking life and limb just for a chuckle or two at her expense.

          “What the hell is going on…”

          “How exactly do you propose we take him anywhere?” Kylo asked, ignoring Finn’s rambling. “We came on my bike.”

          “You brought your car, didn’t you, Finn?” Rey asked, to which the boy nodded vaguely. She turned back to Kylo and shrugged. “That’s how.”

          “And where are you going to take him? I’m not having him know where I live.” Kylo gave Finn a scorching look.

          “Down by the river,” Rey answered simply. “Away from the glare of the streetlights.”

          Kylo’s eyes narrowed. “And how do I know you’re not just going to drive him to his place and let him go free?”

          Rey threw her hands in the air. “Then you’re more than welcome to ride with us, if I really can’t be trusted!”

          “What, and leave my bike?” Ren looked aghast.

          “This is weird,” Finn broke into the conversation, his eyes rolling from Kylo to Rey and back again like they were interdimensional beings of some sort and he could hardly believe they were standing before him. “This is sooo weird. You’re just… _bickering_. Just having a conversation…”

          “What’s so wrong about that?” Rey asked him, folding her arms across her chest.

          “Well…nothin’, I suppose. Except for he’s the…well, you know, he _was_ the…”

          “The what?” Kylo snapped, getting in Finn’s face. “Spit it out, kid. What _was_ I?”

          Finn’s eyes went wide and he blanched, instantly succumbing to Kylo’s radiating dominance in the situation. It was no mystery who had the nastier bite out of the two.

          Finn stammered and sputtered for a minute before Rey separated the two, shoving roughly on Kylo’s chest. It was like pushing a brick wall out of the way, he was so tensed and ready to pounce.

          “That’s enough!” she barked. “I’m going to take Finn and we’ll meet along the north end of the creek, outside that old abandoned house with all its windows broken out.”

          She turned to her friend, fixing him with those soft, earnest eyes of hers. And how could he possibly resist? Hell, even Kylo couldn’t resist those eyes, and he had once thought himself to be a stronger man. But that look, that one look, was all she needed to make even Hades bow his head in submission.

          But Kylo was stubborn, too. And he wouldn’t back down without at least having a minor say in what was going to happen.

          “No. We’ll take him to Lloyd’s,” he said, casting Finn a fiery stare. “South side.”

          Finn looked horrified. Rey didn’t say anything. She didn’t argue. She just turned to her friend, pleading.

          “I just want to talk to you, that’s all,” she promised. “Let me explain this to you.”

          Would it be all, though? It was too early in the game to have the Resistance on their backs, tracking their every movement in a hasty effort to preserve their darker secrets. This guy seemed like a rookie, and not a tight-lipped one. He’d sing to the first person who tickled his ear about it. Kylo didn’t trust him one bit, and he was more than willing to send another body floating down the river if it meant their secrets would be kept.

          Finn’s head trembled, and Rey seemed to take that as agreement. She began to ask him where his car was, and walk away. Before she could get too far, though, Kylo grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him, his own eyes boring holes into hers.

          “Rey. If you deviate…if you go _anywhere else_ with him…I’ll find you.” His voice was low; a warning, and a serious one. _Do not test me. Not when it comes to this._

          “I know,” she retorted firmly, removing herself from his touch for the second time that night. “I won’t.”

          There was a defiance in her, and it was strong and vibrant and dangerous. It flared inside of her just then, filled her up, made her stand a little straighter and glare a little harder. It made the foundation of everything Kylo was or will be tremble in the face of it. And then, just as quickly as it had come, it vanished, and she was walking away from him.

          He snapped himself out of whatever trance she’d put him in with a shake of his head, and then crossed the street to get on his bike. As he clipped his helmet into place, he groaned to himself. _What is wrong with me?_

          He beat them to the garage, but he wasn’t about to waste his time just waiting around for them, even though his anxiety was whispering thoughts in his mind. _She left with him…she isn’t coming…it was all a lie…she never really wanted you anyway…_

          He used his key to get into the shop, turned the dim, flickering overhead lights on and went straight to the tools. His heart was pounding in his chest as he pulled down a handsaw, a hammer, a screwdriver, and pliers. It had been a long time since he’d done anything like this. Getting information out of someone used to be his bread and butter. Intimidation, threats, fear tactics…he knew them all, they were still ingrained in his mind. _Do not stop until you get what you came for, and maybe not even then. No quarter. No fucking prisoners._

          As he finished laying the tools out on a rusted roller table, he heard the gravel crunch under car tires out front. A shuddering breath escaped his lungs: relief. She didn’t leave. _This is real._ She didn’t betray him. _Yet._

          There was a rapping on the door. Quickly Kylo crossed over to it and pulled it open. A grim-faced Rey entered, toting a terrified Finn behind her. The kid’s eyes darted around his new surroundings, curious and horrified at the same time. When they located the table of threatening tools, they got wider.

          “You have trouble finding the place or something?” Kylo asked Rey.

          “No,” she replied shortly. “What are all these for?”

          Her finger pointed accusatorily at the aforementioned tools. Kylo grinned madly and caught the back of an old metal chair with his left hand, dragging it across the cement floor over to the table with a terrible screeching sound that made both Rey and Finn wince. Still smiling, Kylo looked at his prisoner, appraising him with a cold eye. He patted the back of the chair hard.

          “Please. Have a seat.”

          It took a moment of shocked silence before Finn did as he was asked. His hands shook and he gripped the edge of the seat to steady them. Kylo leaned down, putting his mouth just an inch away from Finn’s ear.

          “That was the one and only time you’re going to hear me say please tonight, by the way.”

          “Kylo! Answer me,” Rey snapped. “What are you planning to do to him?”

          Her nose scrunched up a bit when she was real angry. It was kind of cute in a menacing bunny sort of way.

          “I just want to make him feel comfortable,” Kylo said matter-of-factly, “and a little scared.”

          “Yeah, well, you’ve more than accomplished that…” Finn commented.

          “Oh, I don’t remember telling you to speak,” Kylo said in an exaggerated voice. “I’d say that calls for…mm, pliers, maybe…”

          “Okay, that’s enough of that,” Rey sighed, shooing Kylo out of the way. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, crossing his arms but still proud of himself. _She’ll laugh at this later,_ he thought smugly.

          “Finn,”

          She knelt down in front of him, stunning him with those sad, pretty eyes of hers. Kylo watched his reaction with interest. He realized that it wasn’t just him who found it peculiarly hard to say no to Rey. It was a particular skill she had; clearly she had mastered it over the years. _Maybe I don’t need those tools to get him to talk after all. She’s an all-in-one threat sort of girl._

“I know you must have questions,” she sighed.

          “Uh, yeah, more than just a few, actually,” Finn nodded vigorously, eyes constantly shooting to Kylo over Rey’s shoulder and back to her. “First of all, what are you doing with him? Rey…why?”

          It was a minute before she had figured out her answer – a painfully long minute by Kylo’s standards.

          “It’s…kind of hard to answer that,” she mumbled. “It’s a long story, and I don’t think you want to stay here any longer than necessary.”

          Again, Kylo steadily met those wide, brown eyes and didn’t say a word.

          “You’re right about that,” Finn whispered.

          “The thing you really need to know is that I didn’t betray the Resistance…not completely,” Rey explained. “I went rogue.”

          Kylo noticed that her hands were trembling too, just the tiniest bit. It was a strange sight. It looked, somehow, unnatural to see her so vulnerable.

          “Rogue…? What for?”

          “There’s…” She sighed, stopping herself, reforming the words in her head. “I don’t think the Resistance has been telling me the truth about my parents.”

          Something changed in Finn’s face. The light in his eyes dimmed in a way that suggested he was closing himself off. His lips went just a little slack; bordering on a frown. Kylo had seen this before. His eyes narrowed in suspicion and he stepped a little closer to Rey. _He knows something._

          Rey had seen it, too. Her back straightened. When next she spoke, her voice was clearer, steadier.

          “Do you know anything about that?” she asked tersely.

          Finn’s eyebrows raised. “I…how could I? I’m new still, I don’t know about all that…” he stammered.

          “Poe.” Rey said his name like a swear word. Finn’s face fell. “He’s been around longer than both of us. Did he tell you anything?”

          “I…I don’t…” Finn shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut tight before speaking again.

          “He may have said… _something_ , once, in that vein…”

          Rey froze. The apprehension of obtaining a clue had stunned her for a moment and made her blood run cold. Kylo stepped a little closer, leering at Finn.

          “Are you going to tell us, or do I have to convince you to?” he threatened.

          It was Finn’s turn to shoot Kylo a cold glare. Then he turned to Rey and ignored Kylo’s presence entirely.

          “He just said…it was nothing, really, but he told me your parents had been unfaithful, and untrustworthy, to the cause,” Finn answered, hesitating. “He said that they did something bad, but I-I don’t know what. He was relieved, I think, that you didn’t turn out like them. That you didn’t scheme and lie like they did.”

          Rey’s eyes narrowed. _Scheme and lie, eh? Maybe it’s hereditary,_ Kylo thought. He watched as her fists trembled; white with rage. After that, he was a little hyperaware of her every movement.

          “How is it that he thinks they were bad people?” Rey asked, voice straining. “What does he know?”

          “I’m really not sure. All I know is that it had something to do with the leader of the club at the time. He must have been some kind of scared, because it sounded like he went to great lengths to ensure that everyone was against your parents and on his side.”

          Kylo frowned. Who had been the Resistance leader? _She was nine when her parents died, she’s twenty-one now…_ Twelve years ago. 1998. He dug deep in his memory and it wasn’t long before something surfaced; something he had long forgotten. A pale face, a devious smile…a nasty greed that could put republicans to shame.

          “Palpatine…”

          Both Rey and Finn looked at him in puzzlement.

          “What?” Rey asked.

          “Palpatine,” Ren repeated. “He was the leader.”

          “You knew him?”

          Kylo nodded stiffly. _How could I have forgotten?_

“I can tell you all about him…” He cast a wary look at Finn, “…later.”

          Rey’s lips pressed into a firm line. The gears were turning inside her head rapidly now. Finn really hadn’t given them much, but what he had given them was the ability to recall a name. And maybe that was all they needed.

          “Is there really nothing more you can tell us?” she asked Finn, keeping her eyes level with his.

          He shook his head regretfully. “I’m sorry…I really don’t know. I didn’t know much of anything about your parents. I wish I did, now.”

          “It’s okay,” Rey sighed, dismissing him. “You can go.”

          She put his car keys in his open palm. Finn looked from the keys to her face, clearly confused. _Aww,_ Ren thought bitterly. _He thought she was going with him._

          “Before he goes,” Kylo said, putting a firm hand on Finn’s shoulder. “He should be made _very aware_ of something, shouldn’t he?”

          Kylo gave Rey a pointed glance, and she frowned.

          “He wouldn’t say anything,” she said, but her voice betrayed her uncertainty. “We can trust him.”

          “I don’t think we can. I’m not gonna.”

          Finn swallowed hard, caught between the two powerhouses that were Kylo and Rey. Like twin flames, they burned equally bright, and equally hot; the intensity of their combined, domineering energies radiated off the both of them and filled the room to an almost unbearable pitch. Their touch could almost burn, and for a full minute and a half all Finn could focus on was the immense weight of Kylo’s hand on his shoulder, very aware of how close it was to his throat, how easy it would be for the large, skilled man to kill him, should he feel an urge to…

          “I-I promise I won’t say a word of this to anyone,” Finn said hurriedly, his entire body tense. “Rey, you can trust me! You can. I know you just want closure…you should be able to get it.”

          Kylo rolled his eyes.

          “That may be good enough for Rey, but it’s not good enough for me,” he remarked. “How about, if you repeat anything you heard, saw, or learned tonight to another soul on this planet that isn’t Rey or myself, I will find you. Wherever you are, whoever you’re with, I’ll hunt you down like an animal, and I will force you to either fix whatever damage you’ve caused, or pay for it in equal measure. Does that work for you? It works for me.”

          Finn nodded, an odd, jerking motion of his head. Clearly Kylo’s threat had had the appropriate effect on him. Rey, on the other hand, was looking at Kylo with a mixture of displeasure and admiration. Mostly displeasure, though.

          “Get out of here,” Kylo barked, kicking the back right leg of the chair. “And I better not catch you back on this side of the river any time soon.”

          Finn just shot Rey one last pleading look of astonishment before he took off, leaving the man-door open behind him. The warm nighttime air slipped into the garage, tinged with the scent of sweet night flowers and cigarette smoke. Kylo and Rey stood in silence; Rey reeling from the events of the night, Kylo trying to gauge her emotions. As the light breeze trickled along the surface of their skin, they both trembled just the slightest bit, and Fairview seemed to tremble with them.

          There was something different in the air that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh boy and the shit storm truly begins...sorry there wasn't much of poe this chapter (lol) but he'll make a reappearance later on, don't you fret. that damn Dameron, always stirring up drama...
> 
> i hope you liked this chapter! i always try to reply to comments so leave me your thoughts/predictions/favourite parts down below! and thank you for all the love so far. every kudos, comment, like and reblog is appreciated!
> 
> visit me on tumblr! @reylo-solo


	6. don't drown

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=kGrmN4yET0Gp9DiAt6bnpg)

 

Kylo’s House

1:13 A.M.

 

          She hadn’t said much to him between Lloyd’s and his own driveway. Her hold on his waist as they rode his bike home had been lighter than usual, colder. She hadn’t met his eyes once. He could feel her emotional distance opening like a great, threatening void between them, and he was acting like he didn’t notice, but he was hard-pressed to try anything _but_ notice it.

          She’d gone into the house before him, clearly not wanting to chance even the slightest opportunity for conversation between them. Kylo figured the cold-shoulder act was far from over and that it was, in fact, only just beginning. He thought maybe he’d make himself a drink and hunker down in his room, surrendering the rest of the house to her for the night. But when he finally entered his home, he very quickly learned that would not be possible tonight.

          Rey was carrying her blanket and pillow down the hallway to Kylo’s bedroom. Not even a minute later, she came back out, a look of stubborn pettiness on her face, and grabbed what few personal effects she had in the place. She turned on her heel and started heading back for his room.

          _You’ve got to be fucking joking. How old is this girl again?_

          When next she returned, Kylo was waiting for her in the living room. His hair still wild from his helmet, he was intimidating enough just standing there that he made her jump just a little, just enough to show him that he had caught her off-guard.

          “What are you doing?” he asked, eerily quiet.

          Rey frowned, shooting daggers at him with those eyes of earthly fire.

          “Well, I’ve _heard_ that when a man screws up, a woman who lives under the same roof as him may, by rights, force him to sleep on the couch for as long as she deems fit,” Rey explained coldly. “So, that’s what I’m doing. I’m taking your bed and you can sleep out here.”

          Ren was dumbfounded. Very rarely was he taken by surprise, but Rey seemed to have a special knack for doing just that. He might have found it infuriating if he didn’t think it so ludicrous.

          “You’re _what_?” he laughed. “You’re taking my _bed_? Really?”

          Rey blinked at him. “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing. It’s not like we can both sleep in it at the same time.”

          _I’m sure we could if we really—nope. No. Cut that shit out; now is not the time._

          She crossed the living room and grabbed a book she had been reading off the coffee table. He was still stunned as she walked past him once more, but as she stirred the air around his body he snapped out of it and grabbed her upper arm, spinning her around to face him in one effortless move that left her with her back against the wall and Kylo Ren leering darkly down at her.

          She matched his gaze with even intensity.

          “I think you’ve lost your fucking mind if you think I’m letting you sleep in my bed,” Kylo growled.

          “I’d sure like to see you try and stop me.” Rey spat her ultimatum in his face; a challenge she knew damn well he couldn’t accept. Or maybe she didn’t know she had him wrapped around her finger. Maybe she was taking a massive risk by poking the rabid wolf, just to prove a point. Either way, she didn’t tremble, or look away.

          Rey’s skin was hot to the touch; almost feverish, or maybe that was just Kylo’s own emotions getting the better of him. There was a brief moment where the two reluctant allies stared each other down, and a thunderstorm split the charged atmosphere between them. Before it could build anymore, Kylo let go of her, barely resisting the strong urge he had to step back.

          “What’s your problem?” he demanded hotly. “Is this because I threatened your little friend? Well guess what? He’s the _enemy_! And you just _let him go_! So I hope you remember this little tantrum of yours when he rats you out to the rest of your former ‘friends’ and this entire mission of yours gets blown to pieces.”

          “Finn would _never_ ,” Rey yelled. “You would know that if you bothered to listen to me.”

          She slipped out from between Kylo and the wall and trekked into his bedroom, wasting no time in sitting down atop his bed. She watched him as he entered the doorway, calculating his every move.

          “I have no qualms about letting Finn go,” she explained calmly. “But you acted so…”

          “So _what_? Say it.”

          “ _Monstrously!_ ” Rey nearly choked on the word. “The act of maiming another person brought you _joy_ …”

          “That surprises you? You know who I am and what I did! I _am_ a monster, remember? I was never going to actually hurt him, anyway—”

          “Oh for crying out loud! _I’m not talking about Finn!_ ” She cried, slamming her fists down atop his mattress with a muffled smack.

          Kylo’s eyes narrowed as he pieced it together. That same, scalding anger bubbled up inside him as the answer sunk in, triggered merely by the suggestion of a name.

          “Dameron,” Kylo hissed. “You’re angry because I hit Dameron?”

          “Yes!” Rey exclaimed. “That was unnecessary and you know it!”

          Ren took two strides into the room and was standing over her in half a second. There was no mercy in those eyes of his, only anger, dark and foreboding as the dancing coals of hellfire.

          “Don’t you say one more fucking word,” he warned. “I had a damn good reason for doing that to him and he’s lucky it wasn’t worse.”

          Rey swallowed. “Enlighten me, then.”

          Kylo held her gaze for an agonizing amount of time. He didn’t think he’d ever be telling another person this story before. It was a little daunting, not because it made him look bad, but because he could still feel the blood soaking into his shirt and matting his hair. He could still feel the ghost of that momentary panic when he thought he’d been blinded, sending an unpleasant, dizzying jolt through his nervous system.

          “He gave me this,” He managed to chew the words out, despite how awkward they felt on his tongue. His fingers gestured lazily to the long, defining scar upon his face.

          Rey emitted a small gasp at this, and Kylo could feel her enraptured gaze upon his skin, travelling along the path of the fine, deep scar, down to his shirt collar where it disappeared. He could feel heat growing there, where her eyes lingered. He thought if she didn’t look away he may just blister.

          “How…?” Rey whispered.

          Ren smirked, although there was only dark humour in the corner of his lips and ironic mirth in the glimmer of his eyes.

          “With a switchblade,” he answered simply. _An eye for an eye…I’ll get that eye someday._

          “Oh…”

          Kylo watched in a trance as her fingers twitched by her leg, slowly unfurling, reaching out as if to touch his face; to make sure all that pain and anger was real. He swallowed a lump he didn’t know was there. If she touched his scar with those soft, warm hands, all while looking at him like she could _understand_ …he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. But then her fingers curled back into a loose fist, rejecting that urge, refusing it, and he broke out of the trance as quickly as he’d fallen into it.

          “It, uh…it was a bar fight, a very long time ago,” he explained, pushing his fingers through his unruly hair. He began to pace as he spoke; anything not to have to look directly at her.

          “Me and some of my buddies were at the Death Star, the south-side bar by the river. We were having a few beers because it was Mitaka’s birthday. We weren’t bothering anybody. We weren’t patrolling, or antagonizing, or even doing anything illegal. And then this…this fucking _prick_ , Dameron, shows up, and I hadn’t had many encounters with him by that time, but I knew right away that he’s an arrogant fuck; he strolls in there like he’s gotta prove how big his dick is any chance he gets. He comes into our bar, with five or six of his own guys, and he starts shouting. Trying to egg us on. He might’ve been drunk, I don’t really know. Sometimes a man doesn’t need alcohol to be un-fucking-bearable.”

          Rey watched him stroll from one end of the room to the other, fascinated and a little on-edge at the same time. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know how deep this hatred ran. Every time he walked right, the flash of his scar caught her eye, and try as she might she couldn’t pry her gaze away until he turned to go back the other way. She couldn’t help but picture the fresh cut in her mind; crimson blood splashed like a neon light against that pale complexion, that dark hair…a beautiful face split in two by violence.

          “We warned him – told him to fuck off, that he was making a mistake. We outnumbered him, and he was on our territory. He was being stupid, and he knew it, but it didn’t stop him. I think he has an obsession with risk, no matter how dumb it is, he’s got to take it to prove a point to _someone_. Maybe he needs to prove it to himself, I don’t know. Either way, he easily could have died that night if things had gone differently.

          “We didn’t make any moves until he spat on Old Tarkin’s bar, right by the old man’s hand. The disrespect sent everyone careening over the edge of self-control. Then everything sort of happened at once and I—it’s still mostly a blur in my mind, but I remember I got a good blow in right at the start. I felt the side of his skull connect with my knuckles and he stumbled back. I remember smiling and thinking this was going to be over quick. He tried to hit me a few times but he missed every time. I got him in the jaw and then once in the gut. By this time he was curled in on himself near the end of the bar.

          “I advanced on him and I could hear everyone else fighting around me, but I only cared about Dameron, and beating him within an inch of his life. I wanted to extinguish that annoying spark he had inside him – the one that made him so fucking stupidly reckless, in the worst way possible. I almost did it. I could have. But he’d distracted me. In all the chaos and bloodshed, I’d forgotten about those stupid fucking switchblades. When I got over to him he was still hunched over and as soon as I was close enough I heard that blade click, and then in one great arc he swung it forward.”

          Kylo paused by the window. If he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel a phantom sting.

          “The pain didn’t hit me right away. First I felt the gush of hot blood, and then that weird cool breeze sensation you get when the air hits an open wound and it sort of stings. But when the shock subsided, and it didn’t last long, I couldn’t stop myself from screaming. It was excruciating. I couldn’t see out of my right eye and I thought he’d blinded me, or cut my eye out or something. I remember falling to my knees beside the bar and looking up just in time to see Dameron and his buddies running away, laughing. He was proud of what he’d done. Ecstatic, all because he’d disfigured me. And that image is the last thing I remember before I woke up in a hospital bed the next morning with nearly fifty staples and stitches in my face, throat, and chest. And _that_ is why he is lucky I only knocked him unconscious tonight, because what I really wanted to do was murder him.”

          “I’m sorry,” Rey sighed, after a very long pause. “I didn’t know.”

          “How could you have?” Kylo asked with a shrug. “I’ve never told that story to anyone because I never wanted to relive it. I’ve never expressed how angry his smug face makes me, ever since that day.”

          “So why’d you choose to tell me?”

          “Because you asked.”

          She smiled a little at this and proceeded to draw swirling patterns atop his comforter with her fingertip. It was a long time before either of them said anything. Kylo didn’t feel like leaving the room, though. Again he found himself caught in a type of trance, watching her process everything he had just confided in her; wondering to himself why he’d _really_ told her all those things. It would’ve taken a lot of kicking and screaming for anyone else to drag that story out of him, but all she’d had to do was ask. Was he really that comfortable around her already? It was an unfamiliar sensation to him; he hadn’t gotten to feel that way around anyone in a very long time.

He took a moment to think about the fact that she was sitting on his bed, and had been fully prepared to take it from him, like a parent takes toys from a misbehaving toddler. Some part of him rather liked seeing her there. _She could claim that side of the bed if she wanted to. I wouldn’t mind._ He shook it off, though, refusing to open himself up to those kinds of emotions, despite the fact that they were knocking on his door. If he let them in, it would only complicate things and cause trouble. It wasn’t what they were here for. The mere fact that they were there, rapping constantly on the doors to his mind, severely annoyed him. He felt like he was walking a tightrope over a churning river made up of all the complex emotions he had chosen to avoid for the majority of his life so far, and he was simply trying not to fall in and drown.

          “Would you tell me about Palpatine?” Rey asked after a lengthy silence. She turned her lost eyes to him in search of direction. “You said you remember him.”

          Kylo’s shoulders quivered briefly. “I do.”

          “Who was he? Why would he hate my parents enough to kill them?”

          _Jeez, talk about a loaded question._

          Kylo sighed, and finally took a seat on the end of the bed. Where he should even begin eluded him entirely, and it was a good minute and a half before he answered.

          “Sheev Palpatine was a cruel, selfish man, who only cared about how much power he wielded,” He said coldly. “He lusted after it; he could never get enough. So you can see why, if someone blocked his path to ultimate glory, he would snap.”

          “He does sound the type…” Rey murmured bitterly. She was trying to scrub out the bad taste his image had put in her mouth.

          “Jesus,” Kylo moaned, rubbing his face with one palm. His eyes felt suddenly very tired, and he was all too aware of what time it was. “I can’t believe I didn’t even make the connection…”

          “You didn’t know my parents. It makes sense why you didn’t think of that.” Rey said softly.

          But the truth was that he had to have known them; there’s no way he didn’t. He just couldn’t _fucking_ remember! When he thought back to those years of his life, from ages fifteen to twenty, it was like trying to put together a jigsaw puzzle without all the pieces. The trauma he had sustained, both physically and mentally, had left him scarred and broken; without all his pieces. No doubt repression had come to his rescue. If he could glaze over someone like Palpatine, what’s stopping him from forgetting her parents, too?

          “Do you know where he is?”

          There was something different in Rey’s voice now – a hunger that hadn’t been there before. Vicious yet restrained, like a carnivorous beast waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to attack. When Kylo looked over at her, she appeared to be completely attuned to him. But of course she was. This was a lead; something she could follow, like a scent trail, straight to justice.

          If only it were that easy.

          “I don’t,” Kylo replied. “He’s been M.I.A. for years now. He could be anywhere in the world, if he’s even still alive.”

          But Rey would not be deterred, especially not by the facts.

          “Then who _would_ know? That’s where we’ll start.”

          “I…I don’t know,” Kylo sighed. His bones were beginning to ache from the fatigue of the day as it hit him like a ton of bricks. “Old members, I guess. From both clubs.”

          “Yeah, okay. Good,” Rey nodded, the formulations of several ideas gleaming in her eyes like jewels. “We’ll get a few names and go from there. This is good.”

          Kylo glanced at her worriedly. Yes, it was a lead, he supposed. But it was one that they may chase and chase only to discover that it connects back to itself and goes nowhere, like a snake eating its own tail. But he could see she was already getting her hopes up, as though this _was_ the answer, because it _had_ to be, and that concerned him a lot more than he’d care to admit out loud.

          “We can start on that tomorrow,” he said firmly. “Right now I’d like to sleep. So I guess I’m off to the couch—”

          He made to stand up but she put a hand on his shoulder, freezing him in place. She was abashed and awkward; a hint of rose pink seeped into the flesh of her cheeks. He could see she was tired too, and he wanted so badly to place his own hand atop hers, or find her other one, hidden as it was amongst the sheets, and he wanted to run his fingertips along her knuckles and whisper to her that it was all going to be okay.

          “I’ve changed my mind,” she said sheepishly, standing up instead. “I won’t take your bed, not tonight. That was childish of me. Sometimes I get like that.”

          Kylo nodded. There were things he would have liked to say, not all of which were particularly gentlemanly, but he was far too tired to tease her, or tease himself, for that matter.

          “Thank you,” he murmured, already falling onto the mattress where she had been sitting just a moment ago. His hair fell over his eyes and he took a great breath, his broad chest expanding magnificently before he exhaled.

          “Admitting you were wrong is a very adult thing to do, you know.”

          She turned in the doorway and smiled at him in recognition, even uttering a breathy little laugh like the sound of distant rain carried on the air.

          “Goodnight, Kylo.”

          “Mmmph…g’night…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had fun writing this chapter. A little bit angsty, a little bit cute. A fabulous concoction! 
> 
> Be sure to let me know what you thought! And if you like this story please, please share it with others! I make update posts on my tumblr (@reylo-solo) that you can reblog and ask to be tagged in, if you're interested!
> 
> Updates will be a little bit slower from here on out - I've almost caught up to what I've written so far. Oops, lol. Bear with me! I'll get my shit together one of these days.


	7. into my bloodstream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter talks about drug use, murder, and alludes to overdoses. if this triggers you please use discretion.

__

_The spaces in between_

_Two minds and all the places they have been_

_The spaces in between_

_I try to put my finger on it_

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS)

 

June 30, 2010

Redwood Gas Station, Fairview

10:23 A.M.

 

          _Feelings suck. They aren’t your friend. They’re not mine. They feel foreign, like sharp bits of shrapnel migrating beneath my skin, seeking my insides; my heart and my stomach, mostly. They’re trying to kill me. Or maybe Rey is. Maybe it’s both, and the two are completely correlated, and I’m just fucking kidding myself._

_I don’t like to feel. I try not to. I try to block it out as best I can; to shut myself off to others, to never grow close to someone else – close enough that I might start to care. That used to be my way of life, and I was okay with it. I mean, it wasn’t great, but I had resigned myself to it quite peacefully._

_I tried to keep my distance. I tried to distract myself. I tried to ignore it, but none of these things worked. Somehow, by some fucking miracle, she had crawled under my skin. She got into my bloodstream. And yes, I tried to deny this fact, too._

_But watching her walk towards my bike with those dark sunglasses on, wearing a fitted leather jacket, undone to expose her old, ripped Rocky Horror t-shirt that she loved so damn much, downing her four dollar iced coffee she’d been craving all morning…well, fuck. Come on. To deny that is to carry on the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever told, and I’ve told a lot of them in my lifetime._

 

          Rey sighed audibly as she leaned against Kylo’s bike. She finished her coffee, chucked the empty container into a nearby garbage can, and still proceeded to look puzzled about something. Kylo watched her from the corner of his eye; she kept frowning, as though disagreeing with some inner argument she was having with herself.

          As he so often did since getting to know Rey, Kylo wondered what went on inside her head. He thought about this quite deeply until, as he always did, he finally broke down and asked her.

          “What’s on your mind?”

          Rey’s fingers plucked at the hem of her jacket. It took her a moment to speak, which only made Kylo more curious. He was beginning to learn that when it took her a second to explain herself, she was usually debating whether or not to answer at all.

          “I’ve just been wondering about this Palpatine guy,” she finally said, somewhat meekly. “As well as something you said the other night, when we were talking in your bedroom.”

          Kylo swallowed, pulled his helmet onto his head and fastened it.

          “And what was it that I said?”

          “You mentioned a bar,” she said, a bit more clearly. “The Death Star.”

          His jaw inadvertently clenched. He hadn’t been there in years and yet the place still lived, fully-formed and whole, inside of his mind. If he closed his eyes and thought of it, its dark and musty interior would appear on his eyelids, and he could all but smell the scent of tobacco, engrained in the ancient walls of oak and stone, like a memory kept on tape, replaying over and over again. He could hear the sounds of the crystal glasses, clinking in celebration or smashing to pieces out of anger. The watchful eye of the bar owner, lingering for just one second too long…

          “What about it?” he asked gruffly.

          “The owner, what did you say his name was again?”

          “Tarkin.”

          “Yes, him. He’s older, right? Old enough to have been more involved in the Order’s business at the time of Palpatine’s reign?”

          Kylo shrugged. He was suddenly wishing he hadn’t asked.

          “Yeah, I suppose. Kind of a senile old fuck, really…”

          “Do you think we could go talk to him?”  

          Kylo’s brow furrowed and his mouth opened to speak, but he stopped himself before the harsher words could slip out. He didn’t want to offend, but the idea of him taking her to see Tarkin about all this seemed utterly ludicrous to him. He almost laughed, and he would have, if he hadn’t been so shocked by her boldness.

          “Why the hell would you want to do that?” he asked.

          “Well, I just thought…you know, maybe an enemy of the enemy is better to talk to than a friend,” she explained. “I know you suggested we investigate the Resistance side of things first, but…don’t you think we’re more likely to get less biased information from someone who has nothing to lose or gain by giving it up?”

          Kylo’s eyes narrowed. “Go on…”

          Rey sighed again, out of doubt or frustration Kylo couldn’t quite tell. He had a good guess, though.

          “I’m just saying, I think Tarkin could give us more information than the Resistance ever will, because the Resistance hates when they look bad.”

          Kylo smirked. “Heh, yeah, they really do.”

          “So? Will you take me?”

          Kylo looked long and hard out at the horizon, contemplating her request, weighing the pros and the cons in his mind. _Maybe it’d be better if she went in without me,_ he thought, recalling the vicious atmosphere that still lingered between himself and the Order’s affiliates. _But they’d eat her alive without a second glance. It’s too obvious that she’s not one of us – them._

          He sighed and sat down on his bike, kicking back the stand, causing Rey to turn and look at him.

          “Fine,” he responded, “I’ll take you, but we’re going there right now.” He handed her the spare helmet she’d been using.

          “Now?” Rey asked, puzzled. “Isn’t it a little early for a bar to be open?”

          Kylo smirked. “Not Tarkin’s. There’ll still be the few guys who passed out at their tables the night before, being treated with hair of the dog. But there’ll also be a lot less people there at this time. Less of a chance that we’ll be watched.”

          “And less of a chance that anyone will recognize you?” she finished for him.

          “Yes,” Kylo said quietly, “that too.”

          Rey took her helmet and her seat behind him, slowly fastening the clasp under her jaw.

          “We don’t have to if it’s going to be a problem for you,” she muttered. It was clear enough that she was trying to be polite, but she couldn’t seem to hide the disappointment in her voice.

          “I already said we’ll go,” Kylo answered gruffly. “It’s not going to be a problem. We just shouldn’t linger long.”

          “Okay.”

          She didn’t say another word until they had arrived and were parked. She didn’t need to. Kylo could practically hear her thoughts, racing faster than the speed of his bike. There was so much worry, so much fear, in a girl so strong. It was perplexing enough from Kylo’s perspective, he could hardly imagine what it was like for Rey.

          The Death Star, like most things in the South Side, did not look like much. But the second Kylo saw it, the instant he turned his motorcycle’s engine off, a thousand memories came rushing back to him as if they had never faded in the first place.

          Around the front entrance of the rickety old brick building was an even more rickety old porch railing, its black paint peeling terribly after years of negligence on the part of the owner. Once, a very long time ago, Kylo had been here, drunk as ever, and had (quite emphatically, mind you) fallen ass over tea kettle over that very railing, and in doing so had broken two of the rounded posts. There was still a gap there to this day because they had never been replaced.

          “The Death Star” was painted boldly across the front of the building, on an old white slab of wood, its paint also peeling something awful. The steps up the porch were crooked, the wood rotting in places, and feral cats peeked cautiously out at them from a hole in the lattice around the base of the porch before skittering away.

          “Jeez, this place could use a makeover,” Rey commented under her breath, eyeing it from over the top of her sunglasses.

          “Yeah…I don’t think that’s very high on Tarkin’s to-do list,” Kylo answered. “The man is ancient.”

          “Yeah, sure, but isn’t this the Order’s bar? Couldn’t they, I don’t know, pick a weekend to come fix it up for the guy?”

          Kylo laughed sharply. “That’s a good one. It’s a biker bar, Rey. They like it looking uninviting. Keeps the weak ones and the outsiders at bay.”

          Rey rolled her eyes. “Whatever, it was just a thought. I’m pretty sure the Hell’s Angels do stuff like that, you know.”

          “Good for the Hell’s Angels.”

          Kylo sauntered up the steps, careful of where he let his foot fall. It had been a very long time since he’d gone up those steps. He paused upon the porch and his eyes landed on the heavy metal door, with all its dents and scrapes. Anxiety spiked in his system for a brief, flickering moment before he shoved it back down as hard as he possibly could. Now was no time to be nervous, or afraid. Kylo Ren didn’t bow in the face of anyone, or anything. He let his breath slip out softly from between his lips until his lungs were entirely devoid of air, then he took one more lungful and pulled the door wide open.

          As sunlight flooded the dingy bar, its few patrons glared and winced in the face of it. The air was stale with the scent of beer and the lingering clouds of tobacco smoke. All sound died away as the pair entered, much like those iconic scenes from Western movies. The door slammed shut behind them and a few of the deer head mounts on the wall trembled.

          Nobody spoke as they walked up to the bar, Rey following closely behind Ren. Old Tarkin was there, cleaning foggy mugs with an old, worn-out rag, a nasty scowl on his heavily-lined face. His hair was combed back and pressed close to his skull, and his stark, blue eyes had an almost ghostly quality to them; they cut anyone they saw with merciless clarity. The anger and bitterness radiated off of this man to the point that it could almost be tasted in the air; an intoxicating smog of poison that seemed to drain away happiness. Rey wanted to shy away but she couldn’t. It was crucial that she met Tarkin’s stare and didn’t so much as blink.

          Kylo’s shoulders were tensed, his fists clenched in the pockets of his jacket, all senses tuned in to the realm around him. If a patron so much as sniffled, Kylo was taking note of it. The hostility was nearly suffocating, but he refused to let it show.

          Tarkin’s eyes cut to his face, following his scar with extreme distaste. His wash rag squeaking on the inside of the glass mug was the only sound for a moment, save for the creaking rotation of the ceiling fan and the quiet, gurgling music from the old radio in the back.

          “You’re not welcome here.” Tarkin said darkly.

          Kylo smiled crookedly but it did not touch his eyes. They remained cool and impassive.

          “Long time no see, old man,” he said.

          Tarkin merely scoffed and then redirected his attentions to the cups he was cleaning.

          “What do you want, mutt?”

          “It’s not what _he_ wants, it’s what I want.”

          Rey took a seat on a stool and stared directly into Tarkin’s haunting eyes, unblinking. Ren’s eyebrows raised infinitesimally. He was both impressed and concerned by the girl’s bravery. _Speak carefully, North-sider…_

          “And _who_ are _you_?” Tarkin snarled.

          Without missing a beat, Rey answered, “A patron in your bar, willing to pay for a couple drinks and leave a generous tip if you answer a couple of questions for us.”

          Tarkin’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Where’s your cash? And, for that matter, your I.D.? You look like a ragamuffin barely out of high school.”

          Rey tensed up beside Kylo and he resisted the urge to place a withholding grip on her knee. _Remember where we are, kid. Don’t be stupid._

          But she simply reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a decent wad of tens and twenties. _No doubt the thin bread of a fiver sandwich,_ Kylo thought, amused. _Tips from last night’s shift, I take it._

          She set the money atop the bar and stared steadily at the old man, daring him to make another move; a look that very clearly said “question me one more time, I dare you.’

          But Tarkin was ever the businessman, and he couldn’t turn away money. He was greedy to the max; one of those people who equated money with power and vice versa. And yet he looked like he lived under the old Settler Bridge and demanded answers to his riddles in return for a safe crossing. It made no real sense, but then, what could anyone have really expected?

          He huffed and begrudgingly asked Rey what she wanted to drink, to which she confidently replied “Vodka Sprite.” He did not, however, ask Kylo what he wanted. Kylo was fine with this; the old curmudgeon would probably spit in whatever he served him anyway.

          Kylo watched him closely as he made her drink. Realistically, he knew Tarkin wasn’t likely to poison it, but there was just a thin enough chance that he might that Kylo couldn’t risk it.

          But he slid the glass over to Rey and she drank from it and nothing happened, so Kylo relaxed his shoulders a bit.

          “Now what are these questions you must bother me with?” Tarkin demanded coolly.

          “They’re nothing really. We’re just looking for someone,” Rey shrugged. “We were told you knew him well, so I’m hoping you recognize the name. Sheev Palpatine.”

          In a split fraction of a second, a range of emotions played out on Tarkin’s lined face. First came shock, spurred by the mention of a name he clearly hadn’t heard in years. Swiftly after that came suspicion, followed by intrigue and finally, cool impassivity.

          “How do _you_ know that name, girl?” he asked, sharp blue eyes darting from Rey to Kylo. “And why would you be looking for him?”

          “It’s none of your concern,” Kylo grumbled.

          _“Don’t you speak to me, traitor!”_ Tarkin barked, causing everyone at the tables to tense.

          The whites of his eyes were marred with yellow cloud and angry red veins, and yet those striking, ghostly blue eyes were alive with a fire that had been stoked with pure hatred. This was not just an angry man, or an old grump. This was an evil man. And Kylo looked him square in those commanding eyes and didn’t even flinch as Tarkin’s shout echoed back to him within the quiet little bar.

          “Hey, hey,” Rey interjected quickly, redirecting the bartender’s attentions back to her. “Let’s not make a scene this early in the morning. We just wanted to ask you some questions, that’s all. We know you were high-ranking in the Order when Palpatine took charge of the Resistance, and we’re just wondering what you know about him. How he was, back then…maybe where he is now…”

          “Hmph,” Tarkin huffed, the phantom of a malicious grin tugging at the downturned corners of his mouth. “I almost forgot about that lunatic.”

          “Why do you say it like that?” Rey queried. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion. Kylo watched her out of the corner of his eye.

          “Palpatine was a sadistic wolf in sheep’s clothing, and his greed knew no bounds,” Tarkin explained.

          Rey tensed up next to Kylo. He turned to look at her directly and he noticed that her left hand had curled into a tight fist below the bar. She squeezed it so tightly her arm trembled. _Why? What’s wrong?_ He resisted the urge to cover her fist with his own hand. It would do no good, anyway, to touch her. She may just swing that fist at his face, for all he knew.

          “‘Was’? Is he…did he die?” Her voice was stiff; it was clear she had forced the words out despite not wanting to speak them into existence.

          Tarkin sighed heavily and took a seat on the worn-out stool behind the bar. Old as he was, he could only stand for so long anymore before he got tired. _God, it’s like the life was physically sucked out of him. He’s just a husk now. When’s_ he _gonna kick it?_ Kylo thought idly.

          “Could be,” Tarkin grumbled, face pinching together as he felt a quick jolt of pain in his hip. “I haven’t heard even a whisper of him for nearly a decade, until today.”

          “Well what can you tell me, then?” Rey replied shortly.

          Tarkin’s eyebrows raised. “This seems awfully important to you, girl. Something tells me you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

          Kylo could hear her fingernails drag across her pant leg as her fist threatened to act on its own accord. He didn’t even think about it this time. He covered her hand with his and although she blinked and gave him a puzzled, surprised stare, she didn’t try to hit him or move away.

“She knows plenty,” Kylo argued casually, undeterred by Tarkin’s obvious dislike for him. “That’s not the point here. Just tell us what you know and we’ll get out of your bar. But if you really want to make a fucking scene about it, that can be arranged, too.”

Her fist slowly unclenched beneath the weight of his touch. Once it was flat against her thigh he finally pulled away. His palm burned with warmth, his pulse raced beneath his shirt collar. He flexed his fingers, shaking off the prickly sensation of desire, ignoring it, as best he could. But it remained, nonetheless.

Tarkin bristled at Ren’s voice, but this time he chose to ignore Kylo completely. He answered Kylo’s request, but he spoke only to Rey.

“When Palpatine took over as leader of the Resistance, we all laughed. We were _ecstatic_. We thought, they really did it. They hired a ticking time bomb to head their little community mission. We knew it was only going to be a matter of time before he crushed the Resistance from within. He was unstable, and vicious. But he was also charismatic, and a professional-grade liar. He blinded them without a single problem, and we let him do it. We weren’t afraid of him, even if he wanted us to be. Snoke and I…we laughed in his face. And the entire South Side laughed with us.”

Rey was still as a statue now; enraptured in Tarkin’s story and soaking up every single detail for further analysis later on. She didn’t break eye contact once, nor did she touch her drink. Kylo desperately wanted a cigarette, but he feigned his rapt attention well, even if his fingers were tapping a quick beat on the inside of his knee.

“At the time of his election, Palpatine was a rising star in a condo business, which he later became CEO of. So no one from the South Side was particularly surprised when he proposed to the town council the destruction of our oldest residential areas, where our longest-living community members had built their homes, and our main business centre, in order to make way for his condo buildings. That’s how it started. That’s how it _always_ starts. He attempted to choke off our resources, our income, and to banish our people from their houses.

“But Palpatine didn’t just want to abolish the First Order, nor did he only want to infiltrate the South Side with his nefarious businesses. He knew condos were doomed to fail here. South-siders are very proud, spiteful people, and he knew we wouldn’t fill _his_ condos in a million years. Sheev was smarter than that, you see. He wanted to _control_ us. He wanted to make us devoted to him, and him alone. And he had a very sneaky way of doing that. Very sneaky indeed…”

Tarkin laughed bitterly at some recollection in his mind and ended up coughing into his liver-spotted fist for nearly a minute. By this time both Kylo and Rey were listening attentively, and the interruption to the story made them even more anxious.

“He shocked us a bit, when he contacted us by phone to meet. I encouraged Snoke to attend the meeting, if only to humour the poor, misguided fellow. He and I went, on the condition that Palpatine came alone. We were even more shocked when he did just that.”

Tarkin may have been older than dirt, but he sat with perfect posture; straight as a rod, with those evil, cold eyes trained on Kylo and Rey. It was no mystery why he was (and continued to be) so influential to the club. He was…disarming.

“He even came unarmed, I remember that. We could have spit him right there, like a pig over hot coals, and it would have been all too easy for us. But we were curious. No Resistance leader had ever requested to meet with a First Order leader alone before. It felt unnatural to be in the same room with him. But, alas, there we were.

“We met him at the clubhouse. I remember he walked in and said hello to us, and we didn’t respond. He took his seat at the table and we sat there and stared each other down for a little while. He waited to let us speak. We asked what he wanted, and he told us, and we couldn’t believe what we were hearing.

“He wanted a stake in our drug trade. He said he could open up our business to a whole other realm of possibilities through his connections in the North Side and beyond. We were talking hundreds of thousands of dollars. At first, Snoke and I laughed in his face. We thought there was no way this could possibly work. But Palpatine assured us that the demand was there, he just needed someone with good enough product to meet it. I guess that was us.”

“What kinds of drugs?” Rey asked, her voice chillingly quiet. Ghosts were dancing in her eyes.

Tarkin laughed harshly. “What kind of question is that? All of them, stupid girl! Coke, heroin, meth, oxy, ketamine…you name it, we could get our hands on it.”

A shiver ran up her spine. Kylo could feel that same chill surround him. What must she be thinking right now? Her own parents were drug addicts. They died by drug overdose, forced upon them or not. This story Tarkin was telling them, and even Tarkin himself, were the raw, bare bones of the very same industry which had haunted her parents and, by proxy, herself. This was exactly what Ren was worried about. How was she going to react to the darkness of this town, when the curtains got pulled all the way back?

“It took a fair bit of deliberation, but we decided to partner with him, in secrecy, of course. If any of the North Siders discovered what he was doing it would undermine everything he had planned, you see.”

“And what, exactly, did he have planned?” Rey inquired.

“Destruction. Chaos. Death,” Tarkin answered bluntly. “It wasn’t long before he started to ask for more dangerous drugs. Lethal amounts of heroin, fentanyl, all the pills you could think of. We were curious about this, and we were keeping a close eye on him, of course, but he was paying and so we were delivering. It wasn’t until he started to cut his drugs with that fentanyl that we began to realize what he wanted it for.”

“Fuck,” Kylo grumbled under his breath. All those deaths, all a part of Palpatine’s great scheme to rule the town. Somehow he’d forgotten the fear that had permeated Fairview in those days, like a pungent smoke hanging in the air for months.

“He was poisoning people…?” Rey asked. Her voice trembled as her thoughts grounded themselves in the memories of her parents.

“Oh, no,” Tarkin shook his head. “Only the lucky were poisoned. They’d go to the hospital, spend a few days there, a few weeks in detox maybe, then they’d be cleared to go back home. Palpatine was _killing_ people, quite on purpose, too.”

Rey’s skin had gone pasty white. Kylo had turned just a couple degrees in his chair, his knees pointed in her direction, lest she suddenly take off running. She looked like she was going to be sick any minute.

“W-why?” she whispered. It was clear she was unsure how much more of this story she was willing or able to hear.

“They were against him; against his politics. These were people who didn’t like the fact that he was spearheading their community watch squadron, their town council meetings. Sure, he gave a lot to this town. He donated nearly a million dollars so the hospital could update their children’s wing. Plenty of people thought he was a saint. But if he thought, even for a second, that he was being disrespected or undermined…if he smelled even a whiff of the smoke from the flames of rebellion, he was very quick at stamping them out.”

Tarkin shook his head again, slowly this time, and his foggy eyes grew foggier still with remembrance, and a lusting sneer deepened the cracks of his face.

“At the time, the North was in a drug addiction crisis. Everyone was doing something, _especially_ in the upper echelons. Heh, he even went after members of the Resistance! That’s what got us really excited. We were all too happy helping him in that regard, even if he was more inclined to put fear in them rather than kill them. Now, when Palpatine’s crazy antics claimed the life of a town councillor, that’s when things took a bit of a turn…”

A shaky breath escaped past Rey’s parted lips. Her eyes had glazed over, and it was clear she had stopped listening and was instead lost in her own troubled thoughts. _It’s time to go,_ Kylo thought to himself. _We need to wrap this up._

“You seem to have more than enough fond memories of the guy,” Kylo glowered. “And we’re just supposed to believe you when you say you don’t know where he is?”

Tarkin’s glare was cutting. “Yes, you are. Even if I did know, I would never tell a traitor like you, or anyone stupid enough to align themselves with you.” He turned his nose up at Rey, like she was a foul smell in a crowded room.

She didn’t seem to take any notice of the comment or the pointed stare.

“So let me get this straight,” Kylo piped up. “You’d sooner protect the enemy, specifically a man who did nothing to improve the South Side during his time in office, by the way, than tell us where he is? Sounds a bit treasonous to me, and I would know, of course.”

“Hmph!” Tarkin hissed. “Palpatine was a visionary of double-crossing! What he paid for the drugs was given back to our side of town; _our club_ , or don’t you remember, _boy_? Did you forget those days, hm? All that money? You certainly didn’t seem to have any qualms about it then.”

Kylo’s upper lip curled in a snarl. “I was a teenager,” he growled. “Any money was good money to me then, no matter how dirty.”

“A teenager, indeed…” Tarkin’s eyes narrowed and his voice lowered, and he leaned over the bar top, that fiery glare boring holes into Kylo. “You were a stupid little boy. A pretentious, arrogant, reckless _fool_. I’m stunned you were able to wipe your own ass, the way you cared so little about your life, and the life of the Order! For what it’s worth, I seriously hoped some of Palpatine’s poison drugs would find its way up your nostrils or into your veins. If Snoke hadn’t favoured you so, I may have just slipped you some myself…”

Kylo stood suddenly, the legs of his chair screeching in protest against the hardwood floor. He felt hot all over; fuelled by the rage flowing fast through his veins. His hands clenched into fists and he knew, he _knew_ , it would take so little effort to wrap those hands around the old man’s throat and strangle him to death…

“You…” he snarled.

Tarkin backed up but continued to look at Kylo like he was nothing more than shit stuck on a shoe; so affronted was he by Kylo’s reaction. _There’s still fear in you, old man,_ Kylo thought coldly. _I can see it in those nearly-blind eyes. I can smell it on you; your rancid, sour sweat…_

“Kylo, let’s go.”

Rey’s voice broke the tension and Kylo looked away, having forgotten for just a split second that she was even still there. She had said it quietly, but she was back in her body now, and her eyes were begging him to listen to her.

It wasn’t until she stood and tugged on the arm of his jacket that he finally moved, and followed her outside. No one said anything as they left; just watched them go. They weren’t even outside before Kylo had a lit cigarette between his lips, the cherry burning vivid orange as he inhaled deeply.

“Well. That was…informative,” Rey muttered, still slightly dazed.

“Yeah, I’d say,” Kylo replied, a little too loudly. “That old prick still gives me the creeps. Fucking crypt keeper-looking motherfucker…did you hear him say he wanted to kill me? I always knew he did.”

“Palpatine killed my parents,” Rey said, hardly having heard Kylo’s outburst. “He did it. I know it.”

 _Oh. Right._ This wasn’t about someone wanting to kill Kylo. This was about Rey, and her parents. He ran distracted fingers through his thick hair. He didn’t know what to say to that. Sure, Palpatine probably did kill her parents. All the evidence was there in the story they’d just heard from Tarkin. But he couldn’t have acted alone, and that’s what worried Kylo the most.

“Yeah, he probably did,” he answered in a breath of smoke. “But he’s nowhere to be found, if he’s even still alive. So what now?”

“What do you mean ‘what now’?” Rey’s eyes narrowed. “Now, we figure out if he _is_ alive. And if he is, we hunt him down. If he isn’t, well…I’m sure there’s other cogs in this machine that could be permanently removed.”

She plopped her helmet on her head and looked at Kylo, impatiently waiting for him to finish his cigarette. He grumbled to himself. He didn’t particularly like that allusion she had just made.

He ground his smoke out beneath the toe of his shoe and started putting his helmet on. She was watching him the entire time, almost suspiciously. It annoyed him.

“What?” he snapped.

Her eyebrows raised ever so slightly, yet her voice was utterly calm. “Hm?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just thinking,” she answered casually. “Tarkin made it sound like you were really profiting off of Palpatine’s drug scheme. But you never mentioned that to me.”

Kylo swallowed and sat down on his bike, so that he wouldn’t have to make eye contact with her anymore.

“That’s overstating it just a little,” he answered. “And anyway, I was never directly involved with all that. I was too young at that point. I was…just an apprentice, really.”

“Is that why you don’t seem to remember much from that time? You were too young?”

There was something snarky in her voice that rubbed him the wrong way entirely. He bristled, thighs tensing around the seat of his bike. One hand curled into a tight fist until he could feel the fierce bite of fingernails in his palm. Just enough to leave little crescent moon indentations on the skin. Just enough that he had something else to focus on rather than his emotions.

“No, I just don’t fucking remember, alright? It’s not like I’m trying to hide anything from you on purpose.”

“Well, I don’t know that for sure.”

“What the fuck would we be doing here, otherwise?” Ren yelled. “Why would I still be helping you, or giving you a place to crash, if I was trying to hide information from you? I can’t remember everything, okay? It’s too much! It’s just…it’s too much.”

Rey was quiet for a minute before answering, “Okay. I believe you. I’m sorry.”

“Damn rights you should believe me,” Kylo sighed. “I need you to start trusting me, Rey. Or this is never gonna work.”

“I do trust you…” she answered quietly, “kind of.”

“Yeah, well. I’m going to need a lot more than ‘kind of’, alright?”

“I’ll work on it.”

“Good.”

The Dyna’s engine starting cut off any further chance at conversation, and they were both glad for it. Tensions were running far too high after that meeting. They were in no position for civil discussion.

Their thoughts continued to plague them, however, as they started off down the road, heading home. Kylo thought this would be a good opportunity for him to take off for a bit, maybe go to Lloyd’s and do some work on his car, even though it didn’t really need anything done to it. He just always found himself looking for any excuse to escape when things got too intense, at least when it involved someone he halfway-almost-sort of cared about. Whenever he and his parents would get into arguments he would always leave the house, go hang out at the park or walk to the outskirts of town. He’d stay away for a few hours at least, until he was certain the atmosphere back home had deescalated, or his parents had gone to bed. Then he would return, and in the morning it would be like nothing had happened. He wondered if it would be the same with Rey, but he couldn’t see her as the “forgive and forget” type, for obvious reasons.

They had just crossed the river and were about to turn to get to Kylo’s street when an old blue Chevrolet Camaro with tinted windows roared up behind them. Kylo barely had enough time to spot it in his rearview mirror before it swerved to the left of them, staying close enough that they could reach out and touch it. The bike wobbled beneath him but he controlled it well. Rey yelped behind him and grasped him so tightly that he was sure he would have bruises later. He kicked his leg out, lashing at the side of the car with his boot, trying to push away from it and keep his eyes on the road at the same time. But the car would not be intimidated, and it did not stop. It tried to side-swipe them, and nearly did so. There was a wrenching metal sound as Kylo’s left mirror got busted off, but by that time he was already angling his bike to the right, trying to avoid the car as best he could so that it couldn’t crush his or Rey’s leg between it and the motorcycle. His front wheel caught on the lip of the sidewalk and the bike flipped on its side, sending its two riders flying onto someone’s front lawn, now properly chewed up from the bike. Rey screamed as she fell off of it, and Kylo quickly tucked and rolled, skidding on the grass until he landed a couple feet away from his bike, now quite scraped up and lying on its side, its wheels still turning.

Kylo threw off his helmet and stood, running out to the street in time to watch the Camaro turn right and disappear with a squeal of tires on pavement.

 _“Fuck you!”_ he screamed, throwing up his middle fingers.

“Kylo…”

Her voice was so quiet it made his blood run cold in an instant. He spun around and saw her lying there on the lawn, curled in on herself and clutching her left ankle. Her face was screwed up in pain and he knew it wasn’t good, it couldn’t be. He ran to her and crashed to his knees beside her, his lungs working overtime as adrenaline coursed through his system like a drug.

“Rey! Fuck, are you okay?! What’s wrong? Did you land on your ankle?”

“Yes,” Rey gasped, clearly trying her best to breathe through the vibrant pain that was shooting up and down her leg.

“Shit. Is it broken? Fuck.”

“I don’t know. I think I heard it pop…I don’t want to move, Kylo. I don’t want to stand on it.”

“You don’t have to. Come on.”

He readjusted his bike and flipped the kickstand down, then put his helmet back on his head. He knew his motorcycle had sustained a fair bit of damage but he suddenly didn’t give half a damn. Which was very strange, considering what that bike meant to him, but he could only ponder that thought in the very far recesses of his mind, because he had far more pressing matters to attend to in the moment. All he could think about was Rey. She was the only thing that mattered.

With the kind of ease only a man of Kylo’s size and stature could muster, he picked her up as delicately as possible and carried her, bridal-style, to his bike, where he sat her upon the passenger seat. Quickly, so as to give her better support, he sat down in the driver’s seat. Her arms grabbed him right away; they slipped around him naturally, and even though their grip was a bit stronger than usual they still felt eerily comfortable, like a weighted blanket on an anxious night.

“Rest your calf on mine, just like that,” Kylo instructed, delicately moving her injured leg. “Use me for whatever support you need. I promise I’ll go slow and miss the potholes, okay?”

Rey groaned into the back of Kylo’s jacket. “You better,” she said through clenched teeth.

He told her it was going to be okay. And then he told himself that same thing, over and over again until they were home, because he feared if he didn’t occupy himself with something, he’d wind up thinking about the identity of the driver who had done this to them.

And that wouldn’t be good for anybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, NOW I'm going to take a week off uploading. Talk about cliffhangers, amirite? Chapter 8 is gonna be a doozy, though, so stay tuned!
> 
> Thanks for all your continued support so far. I look forward to your comments every time I post! Please share this fic with your reylo friends! We're almost at 100 kudos!


	8. lost boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter deals with difficult parts of Kylo's past, drug use, and predatory Snoke. But there's also bed-sharing (for real this time). regardless, it is an emotionally heavy chapter so please read with caution if you are vulnerable to that.

 

 

_So I waited many years,_  
_Held back the pain behind my tears_  
_For my father, to come find me like he said_

_And in that time I was alone,_  
_So many years without my home_  
_I made brothers of a different kind instead_

_~ "Lost Boy" - Greg Holden_

Kylo’s House

7:52 P.M.

 

          He had tried to make it home on his motorcycle, but it had sustained a touch more damage than he had originally thought. Thankfully he was able to force it to Lloyd’s where it squealed pathetically to a halt just outside the garage door. Reggie had been inside working on an old Ford truck and quickly came out to see what had happened. Kylo had taken Rey into the office, where Brenda had taken care of her without having been asked to do so. That was just the kind of person she was. She took Rey to the hospital while Kylo stayed behind to work on his bike. He could tell Rey didn’t want him to leave her but pacing around a hospital room, _waiting_ , would do him no good. He was about to come unhinged and he desperately needed things to occupy his mind (and hands) lest he snapped completely.

          It took nearly six hours of sitting at the hospital just for Rey to get x-rays done and for the doctor to determine that her ankle wasn’t broken, but very badly sprained. She had refused any pain medication while she was there and put up quite a nasty fight on this front, or so Kylo heard from Brenda once they had returned. “She’s got quite the hot fire in her,” she had said. “Where did you find her again?”

          After all that, Rey had left the hospital with an inflamed temper and a badly photocopied sheet on ankle exercises for her to do once her injury had healed enough. Brenda, ever the mother-figure, ordered takeout for all of them and insisted that they stay at the shop and eat. “You both need to eat after the day you’ve had! If I know Kylo, he’s got nothing but condiments in his fridge at home. So I will _not_ hear a peep of disagreement from either of you!”

          Once they’d eaten their fill, and had about all they could handle for distractions, Kylo insisted they go home. His bike was still torn apart in the shop; in need of parts that wouldn’t be in for another three days. Reggie gave them a ride home in his truck. As they had gotten out of the vehicle, he had watched them with a grim expression on his face. Kylo ignored it as best he could. He knew what Reggie was thinking, and he didn’t want to hear it.

He practically carried Rey up the few steps to his front door. She leaned heavily on him, unwilling to put her left foot down at all, and she was breathing heavily, her face tightly pinched either because of the pain or the concentration it took not to cry. Once he’d unlocked the door and they’d crossed the threshold together, he kicked off his boots and picked her up again.

          She was a comfortable weight in his arms. He liked the way she rested in the crooks of his elbows, the way her hands linked together behind his neck. She didn’t protest as he held her, but merely let her head rest against his shoulder, exhausted as she was from the recent events.

          Much to Rey’s surprise, he walked straight past the couch, where her blanket was still crumpled up against the armrest, and headed down the hallway. Her head perked up a bit, a mildly puzzled expression on her face.

          “I thought you said you’d never let me sleep in your bed?” she asked, raising one slim, questioning brow. “What happened?”

          Kylo looked at her smug face and then just as quickly looked away. _Because for once in my adult life I’m trying to be a nice guy,_ he thought. _But she doesn’t need to know that._

          “Yeah, well…that was before you couldn’t walk.”

          He pushed the comforter aside, set her down gently atop his bed, and fluffed the pillows against the headboard so she could comfortably sit up. She winced only a little as her left heel brushed the mattress, sensitive as her ankle was to any kind of movement. Kylo was quick to the draw, though. He took a pillow from the other side of the bed and gingerly lifted her leg, aligning it below her calf, and very carefully settling her foot down upon it.

          “Can I, uh, take off your shoes?” he asked quietly, glancing up at her through the tendrils of dark hair which had fallen in his eyes.

          She nodded, steeling herself as he began to untie the shoelace on her left foot. He moved slowly, and oh so carefully. He did not want to know that he had hurt her, even on accident. All of a sudden he felt the same way towards her as he had had towards a helpless, injured baby robin he’d found in his parents’ backyard when he was seven. He’d taken that bird and made a little shoebox nest for it with felt and grass inside. He’d fed it squished-up bugs (after he’d nearly made the cannibalistic mistake of feeding it leftover turkey in milk). He’d been devastated when it had died two days later. He’d cried for nearly a week. Like that bird, he just wanted to make sure Rey was safe, and warm, and looked after, and more than anything he wanted her to know that there was someone who cared that she was hurt. Even though her parents were gone, there was still someone who wanted to make her feel comforted, even in the smallest way.

It was weird for him, as a grown man, to feel this way. Connections weren’t his thing anymore. He saw a baby bird fallen from its nest now and he didn’t give a shit about it. There were billions of birds on the planet, what was one less? But Rey wasn’t a bird, and there weren’t billions of her. There was only one. And right now, she was in danger.

Once he’d removed her shoes as painlessly as possible, he got a good look at her ankle. It was quite swollen; it looked like there was a ping pong ball lodged beneath her skin. He could see her actively trying to avoid looking at it. Her eyes danced around the room as though she was taking it in for the very first time. She looked paler than usual.

“Do you want some painkillers for that?” he asked. “I’ve got some somewhere…” His voice faded off as he suddenly regretted his words, very much.

Rey was looking at him with those same haunted eyes he’d seen in Tarkin’s. Not angry, or offended. Just…frightened.

“No, not after what we just learned, thank you,” she replied curtly.

“Uh…Tylenol, at least?” He scratched the back of his head.

She mulled it over for a moment and cast one fateful glance at her ankle before hastily agreeing to some Tylenol. He ducked out of the room, thinking about all the hell she must have given those poor doctors, and returned a minute later with two pills, a cup of water, and an ice pack wrapped in a dish towel.

“You’ve got to stop making me bring you this,” he announced, waggling the ice pack in one hand.

“Third times the charm, though, isn’t that what they say? This is only the second time.” Rey smirked, popping the little tablets into her mouth and chasing them with the water.

“Not really the answer I was looking for.” Kylo muttered.

He found his hands were still shaking a little as he adjusted the ice pack on her foot. The adrenaline produced by the attack was still pumping unfiltered through his system. He was suddenly grateful he had something else to focus on in the immediate aftermath of their arrival home, but now that Rey was almost all taken care of his mind began to race once more and the heat of anger was crawling rapidly up the back of his neck.

“Are you alright?” Rey asked, having noticed his furrowed brow and clenched jaw.

“Yeah,” he said gruffly, standing up. “I’m just trying to keep myself from doing something I’ll probably regret, but would be rightfully deserved.”

“I can’t believe they did that,” Rey shook her head stiffly. “I mean, I _can_ believe it, because this is Fairview. I guess I just didn’t think it would happen like that, and so soon.”

“Yeah, and I have a pretty damn good idea of who did it, too,” Kylo snarled.

“I know who did it, because I recognized that car. It was Poe.”

Rey’s voice was steely, and so were her eyes. As Kylo observed her, he noticed there was something there, some flicker of a past grudge. Not for the first time he saw the pent-up rage inside her, barely contained and sometimes visible, when she was angry enough. She was good at hiding it usually, but every day it threatened to explode out of her like a great beast and wreak havoc on the land. Seeing this anger within her was like looking into a mirror. It startled him as much as it excited him.

“I knew it,” Kylo said quietly, before erupting with rage, “I knew it! That arrogant _motherfucker_ …!”

“It’s just like him to make a big show like that, in broad daylight,” Rey grumbled. “He probably got the idea in his head and everyone told him not to but he did it anyway, just to prove that he could. Just to try and scare us off. He’s always been like that; that’s why I stopped living there and came here instead.”

“Wait—that’s where you were staying before you met me?” Kylo asked, stunned by this new tidbit of information. How had she not told him that?

“Regrettably, yes,” Rey sighed and awkwardly fidgeted with her shirt sleeve. “I was staying with him and Finn, because Finn lives with Poe and Finn actually _is_ a good friend to me…but, anyway. Poe’s too devoted to the cause, and too hotheaded. Obviously I couldn’t stay there while I…you know, did all this. He was already suspect of me and my ‘lack of enthusiasm and commitment’ as he so fondly remarked.”

“I’m gonna kill him,” Kylo said matter-of-factly. “Tell me where he lives so I can get that little piss-ant out of our way, permanently. Because he’s not going to stop causing problems for us until he’s in the fucking ground, and you know that.”

Rey looked like she was contemplating it for a moment before shaking her head.

“I really don’t blame you for wanting to do that, Kylo, but now is not the time. We have bigger things to come to terms with first. Poe will get his, in due time. Have faith in that.”

“But this could all end _now_!”

“Kylo, _please_. I’m asking you not to.”

Kylo huffed. He was pacing the room, back and forth, his footsteps a never-ending beat upon the floor. He supposed he could wait. Waiting would give him more time to plot his revenge. He’d been waiting for years already. He could wait a little longer.

A silence swelled in the room, the only sound was Kylo’s pacing. And only Rey’s inquisitive voice made him stop in his tracks.

“So, I know you said it’s hard for you to remember all the things that happened in your past, but…”

Kylo sighed, squeezed his eyes shut, searched his mind for the appropriate words.

“Rey, you should rest, don’t you think? You’re injured, and it’s been a long day…”

Rey crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest. “Are you actually saying that for my benefit, or for yours?”

He scratched his head. She was getting too good at reading between his lines. It worried him, only a little.

“Maybe both. I guess.” He answered.

“I can see it really affects you, remembering those times,” she offered sweetly. “And I don’t want to force you to relive your trauma. Because I’m reliving some of mine right now and I can tell you, it’s almost as painful as this ankle.”

Kylo side-eyed her, piqued by her gentle humour.

“So why don’t we take it slow, yeah? You don’t have to get right into the nitty-gritty stuff. I just—I need to know…”

“Rey—”

“What were you like, back then? As a teenager?”

The question shocked him a bit. He blinked, unable to hide his confusion.

“Me?” he asked.

“Yes, you.”

 _What a weird question_. No one had ever wanted to know about _only_ him before, especially not who he was as a person. If anyone wanted to hear him recollect his past it was usually cops or vigilantes looking for information. Rey wasn’t a cop, but she was sort of a vigilante. Yet he got the distinct impression that she wasn’t looking for anything in particular just yet – maybe she really did just want to know him, on some deeper level. But his habitual reaction was the dark thought that maybe she would use this information to hurt him. If he told her this, it would mean letting her in – _really_ letting her in. And once she was in, there was no getting her back out. Did he really want to do that to himself?

He looked at her, and saw the way she was looking back at him. Her eyes were soft, and harmless. There was no hint of malice about her person, even though he knew all too well what kind of vengeful hatred she was capable of. There was nothing but open honesty, and – could it be? Did he see trust sparkling in the inner corners of those sweet doe eyes? Yes, he believed he did. And why shouldn’t she trust him now, after all that had happened, and all that he had done? He realized in that moment that if he was going to sabotage himself for anyone, he would do it for her, and her alone.

“Well I, uh, I wouldn’t have been someone you’d want to acquaint yourself with,” he answered meekly, too abashed to make direct eye contact. He _loathed_ talking about himself.

“No, probably not,” Rey shrugged. “But I don’t think you’re that person anymore, are you?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, then. It doesn’t so much matter to me who you _were_ ; I like who you are now.”

_I hope she doesn’t eat those words someday._

There was a long, pregnant pause before he spoke. Looking back at himself all those years ago, it was like looking into the face of a stranger. He’d been so immature, so naïve. Like nothing could ever hurt him. But, of course, there were many things that could hurt him, and did, in the end. It was the pain that made him into the man he was today. And the anger. That darkness which had nearly consumed him.

“I was reckless, and stupid,” he explained slowly. The words felt foreign inside his mouth and his throat was tight. “All I cared about was the Order, and that brotherhood I thought was mine. Everything else, my family, _myself_ …it all meant nothing to me.”

“Your mother still lives in Fairview.” She didn’t ask it like a question, she stated it as a fact. Of course she would know. Kylo’s mother and the Resistance went way back. A fact he had conveniently and purposefully ignored for years.

Kylo nodded. The mention of his mother, just the mere thought of her, was enough to make his stomach clench into knots. There was so much regret there, so much pain and heartache, it nearly made him sick to think about it for any longer than a second.

“Yes,” he choked. He didn’t want to talk about it, not yet. So he changed the subject. “My father died two days before my seventeenth birthday, and that’s what pushed me over the edge. I…I patched into the Order not even a week later.”

_And I didn’t look back for a very long time._

How many times had he berated himself? How many nights had he lied awake as his guilty conscience ate him from the inside out? _I should’ve been there…I should have stayed for her, but I didn’t. I crushed her already broken heart instead, and now I can never go back. It can never be the same._

Rey’s brows knitted together and she swallowed. She adjusted herself a little on the bed, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Kylo, when did you—er, how old were you when were you _approached_ by the Order, or however it works over here…?”

Ah, yes. She wouldn’t know how it worked. On the North Side, you got into the Resistance on genealogy and genealogy alone.

“I was twelve going on thirteen,” he answered plainly. “They got me to sell drugs to high school kids. That’s how it started.”

Rey’s fingertips touched her mouth. They were trembling.

“Oh, my god,” she whispered.

“Like I said, I didn’t patch in until I was seventeen. I was too young when they found me. I wasn’t great on a motorcycle yet. I got great, and fast. And I was a good little drug gopher, too. I made the club a lot of money, once I got the hang of it. They made me a prospect when I turned fifteen, but by that time no one was surprised.”

“Ol’ Snoke had a—a thing f-for…corrupting young boys,” Kylo’s hands clenched into fists; those familiar crescent-shaped wounds burning in his palm.

“Oh, Kylo…you don’t have to talk about that,” Rey said hurriedly. Her eyes were glossy, and her chin trembled. She reached out to him but he did not go to her. He didn’t want to be touched just then, not even by her.

“No, I’ll tell you…some of it. I owe you that much at least.”

He cleared his throat. This was going to hurt.

“I was going through a rough patch, mental health-wise,” he went on. The words were like mud in his mouth; gritty and bitter and filthy. “I was feeling more lost than ever before, and that’s something I’d struggled with my entire childhood. My parents always made me feel like I was special; like I was meant to fill this specific mold they’d worked so hard to build for me but I just…no matter how hard I tried I didn’t fit it. And I knew they were disappointed. They never said it, but I could feel it.

“Anyway, one night, I was walking alone downtown. I’d snuck out after my parents had gone to bed, something I did a lot, but I rarely left our neighbourhood. This time, though, without even realizing it because I was so lost in my own thoughts, I’d wandered deep into the South Side. I only vaguely knew where I was, or how to get back home. I liked to take alleys as shortcuts; they’re more sheltered and if I met any living being in an alley it was usually just a rat or mice. No big deal. But that night, something happened. I—I saw…”

The image flashed through his mind violently and he squeezed his eyes shut, refusing to let it take control of his emotions as it had that night. He was stronger now. He’d seen plenty of dead bodies now, and none affected him so much as that one had.

He explained it to Rey as best he could, not wanting to disturb her too much. But how could he describe the grizzly sight of a mutilated man hiding a dead and badly-beaten body inside of a dumpster and make it sound any less horrifying than it was? Rey’s eyes were wide and a tear slid down her left cheek. Her mouth was open, tongue dry as ash.

“I screamed, and I tried to run away, but the man was already on top of me. He grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pulled me backwards so hard that I choked. When I opened my eyes and my vision cleared, that ugly, disfigured face of his was only an inch or two away from mine. I could smell alcohol and tobacco on his breath and something else, too; something toxic and foreign to me. It burned my nose. It smelled the way a freshly-cleaned emergency room smells. I’ll never forget it.

“In return for my safety, he said all I had to do was perform a job for him. He didn’t want me to snitch about what I’d seen. He said he’d kill me if I breathed a word to anyone and I knew he wasn’t lying. And…and I was crying, nearly pissing my pants I was so scared. I kept wailing that I just wanted to go home…please just let me go home, I swore I wouldn’t say anything. But he looked at me with this sneer on his crooked, fucked-up face and he said, ‘Oh, no. I can’t let you do that. Besides, I’ve been looking for a kid like you…’”

“Oh, Kylo…” Rey whispered. “That’s awful. What an evil, evil man!”

Kylo shuddered and, unwilling to show _too_ much emotion in front of her, swallowed the pain and kept it deep inside of himself where it belonged.

“Like I said, he had me sell drugs to kids at my school. Just weed and coke, but still. I was barely starting grade seven. But I was good at it, and I never got caught.”

He explained how Snoke had made him feel like he belonged somewhere; how after a while of working for the Order he grew to like it, and didn’t want to stop. He started making some money off of it and he thought it was something to be proud of, because he was just a stupid, lost boy with no real direction in life and parents who, it seemed to him, were quickly fading in the rearview.

“I saw the Order as a way to rebel. A family that would always be there for me, and would expect nothing from me besides my real, honest self. So I stayed. And I learned the ropes. And Snoke made me his apprentice a couple years later.

“I was just a Prospect for almost three years, which meant I was subjected to hazing, bitch work, and many risky illegal activities, and yet I loved _every single second_ of it. After all those years of feeling lost, and not knowing who I was supposed to be, only knowing I wasn’t living up to my parents’ expectations, I finally felt alive. The thrill of it, of all the times the cops _almost_ caught up to me, of all the times I nearly died, I lived and breathed it. It made my heart race unlike anything else. No drug could compare, and I tried my fair share of them to figure that out.

“By the time I turned fifteen I was Snoke’s lapdog – cream of the crop, specifically chosen by the man himself to serve the Order and serve it well. I was so fucking proud of myself. Looking back on it now it’s pathetic. What a stupid thing to be proud of. But I was. I thought I had accomplished something great. All the other Prospects who were far older than me hated me, and I soaked up their jealousy like a sponge.

“By seventeen, I had bulked up a lot. I was a high school drop-out. A drug dealer. And the muscles of the operation. By age twenty, I was the brains, too. Big and intimidating and too cunning for my own good. But then Snoke was murdered when I was twenty-one. After that, everything changed.”

Rey wiped away another stray tear and shook her head firmly. “Stop,” she urged. “You don’t need to tell me anything more right now.”

Kylo blinked himself out of the trance he’d fallen in and looked at her, surprised to suddenly realize he was sitting on the foot of the bed when he hadn’t even noticed himself do it. He suddenly felt very tired and drained. He scrubbed at his dry eyes with his knuckles and sighed. He stood up, his weary bones crackling as he did so.

“You should really rest now,” he said quietly. He helped her to recline into a sleeping position that was comfortable for her and was surprised when she didn’t complain once. That’s how he knew she was tired.

Rey watched him like a hawk as he grabbed the last pillow from the bed; the flattest one. He was just about to turn to leave when he felt resistance. He turned and saw her with the other end of the pillow in her fist, staring up at him with a little bit of remorse and fear in her expression.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

Perplexed, Kylo responded, “To the couch…to sleep.”

“Don’t sleep on the couch tonight…please,” she whispered. “Can you stay?”

Kylo felt his heart skip a beat; a strange sensation, like someone had stolen all the breath from his lungs. His first instinct was to squirm and make some excuse for a speedy getaway. But there was something in the way she spoke, something in the way she looked up at him, which made him refute that.

“A-are you sure? And they really didn’t give you any pain meds at that hospital that would make you say that?”

She giggled. “Yes, I’m sure. Besides, if I realize I’ve made a mistake, I’ll just kick you out of bed. With my good foot.”

So, it was for this reason that Kylo found himself getting into his bed, beside her, still fully-clothed. He put his hands behind his head. He chose to stare up at the ceiling instead of at her, because he feared if he looked directly into her face his entire body would turn the colour of a ripe tomato, and he didn’t want her to know she had that kind of authority over him. It wouldn’t bode well for their dynamic, or for his own self-esteem.

Rey had turned on her side to face him, still keeping her left leg aloft on the pillow, and her eyes were already struggling to stay open.

“Thank you, for today,” she yawned. “You didn’t have to do…any of this.”

She was already asleep before he could reply.

 _I’ll stay here for just a little bit longer,_ he thought to himself. _Just until her breathing gets a little heavier and I know she’s completely out. She doesn’t need me here; she just felt bad for me after all that shit I told her._

The demons of regret were already knocking on his door over it but he would not let them in, much like he didn’t want to let in those pesky feelings she had aroused within him. They were even more formidable than the demons.

Just as he was about to get up, Rey snuggled in closer until her head rested in the crook between his arm and chest, one of her own arms thrown over his waist. Kylo froze beneath her, eyes wide, uncertain of how to proceed or what to do in this situation. Whatever he’d been expecting out of sharing his bed with her, it certainly hadn’t been _this_.

“Mm…yer warm…” she mumbled.

It wasn’t long before she was gently snoring, and Kylo still hadn’t unthawed. He watched her up-close for a while, utterly fascinated by the way her eyelashes fluttered as she dreamt. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he couldn’t understand how it wasn’t waking her up. But she slept on, somehow comforted by his body heat, by being close to him.

When had it gotten to this point, he wondered? When had she grown so comfortable around him? He reflected back to that time not so long ago when they had first met, and she hadn’t even wanted to sit in the passenger seat of his car for fear of what he’d do to her. What had changed? A lot had happened since then but he couldn’t pinpoint what cataclysmic action had aroused such a shift in her perceptions. Maybe it wasn’t one specific thing. In any case, he couldn’t very well ask her that, could he?

In any other situation like this he would have pushed the person off of him. He might have even yelled at them for thinking it appropriate to get that close to him. This was something different than just sex for the sake of sex; this didn’t elicit that volatile, almost angry swirl of emotions that sex often did for him. This was soft; there were feelings involved in this action that he hadn’t experienced before. To be comfortable enough to want to _cuddle_ meant that she cared for him on some level, and the fact that he was allowing it meant that he cared, too. Maybe a little too much for his own good.

“What the fuck are you doing to me, Rey?” he asked in what was barely a whisper. “Who are you…?”

He couldn’t ask himself what was so special about her; what made her different from any other person who might want to do this with him, because he already knew the answer to that. She was Rey. Simple as that. She was warm, and charming, and even though she tried to be a bastion of seriousness in almost all things she had a peculiar sort of humour to her that would appear from time-to-time. She resonated with him on all levels, in a way no one ever had before. And that was the reason he was even letting her get so close in the first place. The reason he couldn’t put a stop to it, even if he wanted to. She was meant to be in his life, he knew it now. And as much as the thought warmed the depths of his heart, it saddened him a bit, too.

A lock of her hair had fallen across the bridge of her nose. His heart raced like it had when he’d been young, running from the law, his reckless laughter lost in the cold, dead night air. It was astounding that such a small gesture as brushing that lock of hair behind her ear could make him feel that way again, but it did. His fingertips travelled along the left side of her face as soft as air, catching her hair in their wake and pulling it back where he gently tucked it away. It curled around his fingers, soft as down feathers, and for a minute he didn’t want to let it go. He didn’t even want to breathe. It was in this moment as he watched her sleep and ran his fingers through her hair that the reckoning occurred for Kylo. He had developed feelings for this rebel girl, faster and harder than he could ever have thought himself capable of. He wasn’t sure when it had happened but if he could hazard a guess, it would be the minute he had laid eyes on her. She’d been bloody, and haggard in appearance, but none of that had mattered. From that moment on she had meant something to him, more than any other living thing on planet Earth, and he had known he wouldn’t be able to shake her, maybe not ever. He decided, though, as she slept upon his chest, that he was okay with that. He could have stayed like that forever, if his thoughts hadn’t gotten the best of him yet again.

She was too good for him. Too young. She had too much promise in her future, and too much hope in her soul. She was pure, and good…everything he could never be. And suddenly he was angry with himself for thinking he had any right to hold her like this, to touch her that way, when all he was and would be was poison. How dare he cross that line? How dare he let himself think, even for a second, that he could be deserving of someone like her. For she could never love someone like him.

He let her hair fall back into place, disgusted with himself. How stupid was he, to think he could ever be good enough for her? Who was he, but a murderer and a thief? A lost boy, still to this day, with no family to go home to. He had sabotaged his own life; torn it to shreds and watched it burn. If he allowed her to keep getting close to him like this, he would infect her, too. He could handle breaking his own heart for the sake of saving her, but he would not let her get her heart broken by him.

“Oh, Rey,” he whispered into her hair, “I will ruin you.”

She didn’t wake as he maneuvered himself out from beneath her. His heart still raced as he shut his bedroom door and grabbed his car keys off the kitchen counter. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He couldn’t. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again. Not for the first time that day he was in desperate need of a distraction, but this time he was looking for one of a more violent sort.

He had a vendetta to carry out. And the whole town seemed to shy away from his rage as he stepped out into the night like a hound summoned straight from hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well there it is, folks. actual bed-sharing, even if it was only for a little while, and entirely marred by emotion (both beautiful and tragic). go off on me in the comment section, babes.
> 
> i've been sicker than a dog all week and i am still recovering. there was also a tragedy in my town that affected me and my family, so i've been working through that and coming to terms with it. writing this chapter helped me get some of those emotions out of my head. so i'm thankful for that.
> 
> come chat with me on tumblr (my user is reylo-solo) and send me tag and song recs! i'm also very accepting of moodboards ;)


	9. the spectator

__

[lie to me cover art by the amazing Emily (reyl-hoe)](https://66.media.tumblr.com/863bd138cc017e7971e48bce639749b2/tumblr_pjx3dk5KKF1vddfdyo1_500.jpg)

 

[beautiful calligraphy contents by uh_no_thanks](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DvSxe83U8AAf3Cf.jpg:large)

 

_I am the spectator_   
_I can see the world passing by from here_   
_I am just a child, to a man_   
_Back to the dust where I began_   
_I was never even here at all_

 

_Resistance Headquarters, exterior_

_North Side_

_9:57 P.M._

          He was parked across the street from their headquarters. Sitting in his car with the engine off, his hands shaking upon the steering wheel.

          He had so much rage inside of him at that moment. He hadn’t felt it like that in a very long time. His head throbbed because of it; his heart pounded a quick, steady beat against his ribcage. It was dark and unholy and _cold_. It swept him up, this rage did, and it whipped him around and around until he could no longer see straight, or even think straight. This rage was an all-consuming, terrifying beast, and when it possessed him he struggled to control himself. He struggled to feel anything else. It took command over him. It was the reason he was here, as the town gradually fell asleep around him, and not back in his own bed with Rey snoring beside him. Because he couldn’t stop thinking about how close she came to sleeping in a hospital bed, and it was all to do with Dameron.

          So, he was parked across the street from the Resistance headquarters. And he was _angry_.

          In the clubhouse parking lot there was one, lone car. A blue Chevrolet Camaro with tinted windows and a good, long scrape on one side. He could see a light on inside the main level of the building: the bakery. They were both in there, Finn and Dameron. Sitting side-by-side at a booth, their heads bent together, Finn was rubbing Dameron’s back, almost like he was comforting him. They were having a drink together. This only made Kylo more volatile. Dameron didn’t need to be _comforted_ , he needed to be _destroyed_.

          He represented everything Kylo hated about the Resistance, and the North side. The flippant arrogance, the hypocrisy, the seemingly endless, driving urge to always have the last word…

          But he was not going to get the last word, not this time. He wasn’t going to get anymore words, ever again. If he said anything else before he died it would be a pitiful beg for mercy, and it would be slurred through a mouth quickly filling with his own blood.

          In his mind he was doing inventory of all the weapons he had stored in a secret compartment in the trunk of his car. He had some nice pliers in there. He liked pliers. And his faithful bat. Anything to prolong the pain before death comes. Anything to make all this rage worth it. _Anything_ , so that he could feel any other emotion besides the prickly hot needles of anger.

          But he’d always been like this, for as long as he could remember. He’d been unstable. Prone to bouts of anger and violence. As a kid he’d only ever taken it out on himself or inanimate objects. But as an adult, and at Snoke’s coercion, he took it out on other people who he believed deserved it. Poe deserved it.

          It wasn’t even about the damage to his bike, or his own pride at this point. It was about Rey, and only Rey. Because not only did Poe run them off the road and cause her pain in the process, but he now knew of her secret alliance with Kylo. He knew what they were up to, or at least some of it. And the only reason he knew about any of that was Finn, because Rey had told him. And against Kylo’s better judgement, he hadn’t stopped her from doing so.

          So Finn deserved it, too. But Kylo wouldn’t hurt him, at least not badly. He wouldn’t, because he could practically hear Rey’s screams of betrayal in the back of his mind and feel her anger meld with his own, creeping down his neck…

          Then again, she may not want Dameron killed, either. She may react the same to news of his massacre at the hands of her tentative ally and roommate. What then?

          He shook his head from side-to-side, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to rid himself of the thought.

          “No,” he snarled to himself, “I don’t care what she wants. I’ve had enough of this shit.”

          But he wasn’t very convincing.

          _It’ll just continue to be a problem later on. She won’t care, she hates him too! She left because of him!_

And yet his eyes fell away from the couple in the window and he found himself locked in a mental tug-of-war with his conscience, which Rey had somehow stirred up from its long dormant state. He hadn’t been in a position like this in a very long time, and he didn’t know what he should do. He wanted to kill Dameron and wipe him off the underside of his shoe like a large fly, but – is that what she would want him to do? The goal had never been to kill all the gang members in town, after all. Killing just one could stir up a frenzy of unwelcome activity, even if it was a loathsome Resistance fighter.

          He was still angry, though. Only now he was frustrated on top of it. Why did her opinion of him matter so much? Why did he feel this intrinsic _need_ to protect her and keep her secrets safe? And why did that need trump everything else, even his (typically) unshakeable rage? He asked these questions and more of himself, and he got no answer. There was only silence, and the stark image of Rey’s furious face, fading from the backs of his eyelids where it had scorned his gaze.

          He couldn’t let Dameron go unscathed, though. Oh, no. He would never forgive himself if he did that.

          He opened his glovebox and pulled out a nasty-looking pocketknife he’d concealed under napkins and papers. Needless to say, this was not his first rodeo.

          Quietly, he got out of his car and crossed the street, making sure to stay low and in the shadows. Gravel crunched beneath his boots as he settled behind the Camaro and snuck a peak at the window to make sure they hadn’t noticed his shape looming closer outside. They hadn’t moved, and seemed quite engrossed in one another.

          As he crouched along the side of the car his fingers traced the rough scrape in the paint, left there by his bike. There were a couple dents from where he’d kicked it, too. It made him happy to see that damage, but he still felt hollow inside. It wasn’t enough.

          Ejecting the blade on his pocketknife, he braced himself against the side of the car and, in one swift, powerful motion, slipped the knife through the tough, pressurized rubber of the tire. He jerked the blade downward, tearing the material like it was nothing more than weak flesh. There was a sudden and violent hissing noise as the air quickly escaped and the tire deflated until the rim rested on the ground. He slid back around behind the car and did the same to the rest of the tires. When he was done that, he decided it still wasn’t good enough. The anger within him had abated some, but it still crackled like embers deep inside his chest.

          The soft, golden glow cast upon his surroundings by the yellowed lights within the bakery suddenly disappeared, and Kylo retreated in an instant, taking to the shadows like he was one. He waited with bated breath to hear the clubhouse’s door open, but the sound never came. Instead, a soft light in the upper window replaced the one that had gone out. They were going to bed – or, something along those lines, anyway.

          The idea came to him on a stray breeze, it seemed. All of a sudden he was filled with a compulsivity that he was helpless to ignore. He stood, walked straight to the driver’s door of the Camaro, unfastened his jeans and pissed on the handle.

          When he got back into his car afterward, he was able to breathe a little easier. He sat for a moment with the engine still off, and mused over how mild he’d just been. Four slashed tires and some piss was _very_ light for him in a situation like this.

          He sighed, because he found himself wondering, for what felt like the millionth time since he’d met Rey, just what the hell was happening to him. And maybe, that heated, exasperated breath poured past his lips in part because he knew the answer to the question, he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. Realizing something and letting it properly sink in were usually two entirely different things to Kylo, and he’d had enough revelations for one night.

          He drove off, eager now to get out of Resistance territory. He made it the seven blocks to the skate park without hitting any red lights, and only then did he slow back down to the speed limit.

          It really was a beautiful town, despite all the flaws which made it a nightmare. It had the façade of being pleasant. Kylo knew it was all lies, and that behind every neatly swept street and meticulously cared-for park was another terrible secret, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t sometimes admit that he understood why people had settled the town in the first place.

          The river had been crucial to life here, once. It ran long and deep and attracted lots of wild game for folks to hunt, as well as connecting Fairview to other outlying settlements. Rich green forest trees stretched upwards all around the town like a great natural border, hiding it away from the rough, grey, concrete outside world. It was almost like Fairview existed within a snow globe, and every so often someone would come along and violently shake it, just to watch the ever-present chaos float down from above and settle over the place like a poison cloud.

          As much as Kylo hated this town, he still lived in it. Over the years he had had many opportunities to escape and had taken none of them. He had even been _encouraged_ to leave, quite strongly, by the Order, but even then he refused.

          He scratched the dark band around his forearm absentmindedly as he lost himself in thought.

          Why? Why hadn’t he left when he’d had those chances to? He asked himself these questions often, and every time he refused to answer because he _knew_ why. He knew. He didn’t understand it completely, but he knew.

          This town was deadly. This town was bloody, and cold, and unforgiving. All of this was undeniable in Kylo’s mind. But he couldn’t leave, not while his mother still lived there. He didn’t want to. He _refused_ to. Even though he hadn’t spoken to her in years, even though he’d ignored all of her phone calls and letters, he still loved her so deeply it scared him to even think about walking away from her forever, being unable to protect her from all the demons he’d summoned which lingered in the shadows, waiting to strike.

          He’d left her at seventeen, before the dirt pile had even settled atop his father’s grave. His own mother, who had warned him for years about the gangs of Fairview, and the poisonous influence they had over the town. He’d looked at her with a straight face as she had tears in her eyes, donned the leather cut given to him by Snoke, and turned his back on her. And every night since that day he’d regretted it, but he had never gone back, partly because of his pride and partly because he knew he would only hurt her more.

          Nothing made him hate himself quite like that memory. Nothing hurt him quite so much as the barbed tips of that recollection, which dug its spines into his chest and migrated through to his heart, numbing him, aging him, rotting him, from the inside out.

          When Snoke had died and Hux had pointed the finger at Kylo, threats were made against his mother. Horrifying threats that he knew better than to dismiss as idle attempts to frighten him. So he’d refused to leave town and in doing so only made things harder for himself. He was hunted for months like a prize animal, but at least if they were focused on him, they would stay away from Leia.

          And so even now, years after everything had crashed down around him, he remained in Fairview. He patrolled it and he monitored it, like a seismologist calculating when the underground volcano would erupt and swallow the whole place in a fiery gulp of lava and ash. But most importantly he kept an eye out for his mother. He made sure no one bothered her. He kept her safe from everyone but himself, because he had already delivered the most devastating blow possible when he had left her. Now, feeling like he could never go back and fix things, all he could do was drive by her house late at night when all the lights were off except the old vintage lamp on her bedside table, glowing yellow in the second-storey window, as she read her books in her bed, all alone. Resigned to the fact that her son was gone and untouchable. He would drive by, and he would breathe a little easier to know she was okay, and his chest would get tight with the knowledge that her pain still festered inside of her all the same.

          At least they still had something in common.

          He arrived back home, now feeling hollow after all his anger had evacuated his body, and his tired legs carried him into his house. Rey was still sleeping peacefully in his bed, her swollen ankle still propped up on the pillow. He looked at her for a long moment, and he allowed himself to really feel that urge to get under the covers beside her and fall asleep. It was a distant warmth; entrancing but always just out of his reach, like something he desperately wanted but wasn’t qualified to have. So instead, he picked up the last remaining pillow on the bed and shuffled to the couch, where he had a very restless slumber.

          In the morning his back hurt terribly. He was still trying to massage the uncomfortable knot between his shoulder blades with the rounded corner of the living room wall when Rey limped slowly down the hallway, her eyes still squinty with sleep, and announced that she had thought of someone else to interview regarding Palpatine.

          When she revealed that person was his mother, he froze. Words escaped him, but probably because his heart was lodged so tightly in his throat he thought he might just suffocate and die.

          As he looked into Rey’s wary yet hopeful eyes, he thought that might not be such a bad alternative. But how the hell was he supposed to tell an _orphan_ that he’d rather choke on his own anxiety than talk to his mother? How could he look into that innocent face and tell her that he had burned that bridge long ago? He couldn’t. He couldn’t explain that to her, she wouldn’t understand. She’d just think he was being stubborn, or mean, or unfair. And while he was all those things more often than not, he didn’t want to be those things with her, not really. But he couldn’t give in to this. He wouldn’t.

          His mouth worked as he swallowed, lips tightening into a line and then a meagre pout.

          “No” was all he said.

          _She will not make me change my answer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay, an update finally!! i honestly thought I was going to be able to post this before Christmas but it just didn't happen :( So here it is now! It's shorter than usual, I know. Hopefully you can forgive me ;)  
> Thank you all for your support on this story! I've gotten more love in the last couple weeks for this fic and it means the absolute world to me. I can't express how happy I am that you're all enjoying it as much as you are.   
> I hope you all had a wonderful holiday season and I wish you all the best in the new year! I will see you in 2019 with an update! x


	10. strike a nerve

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS)

 

_She made me change my answer. Of course she did._

          “Sorry…did you say ‘no’?” Rey queried, raising her eyebrows.

          Kylo huffed, and a thousand different comments swam through his mind, very few of them nice or sensible in nature. _I don’t need to explain my relationship with my mother to_ you _…You can’t understand any of this anyway…both your parents are dead and my mother…my mother just…hates me._

          “I just…I can’t do that, right now.” He chewed the words out between gritted teeth. It took all he had in him not to curse, or get upset at her. She may be striking his most sensitive nerve, but he didn’t want to let her know that. It was his weakness, and he couldn’t let her know he had one of those. He couldn’t lie down and roll onto his back; stick his tail between his legs and bow his head in submission. There was still plenty of time for her to lunge at his throat. Plenty of time for all hell to break loose.

          “Why not?”

          How did he know she was going to say that?

          He turned his back to her, and walked into the kitchen. He opened his fridge but his eyes didn’t really _see_ the contents inside of it. He just stood there, looking but not really _looking_ , as his hand began to tremble on the door handle.

          Slowly, and with the great, unmistakable limp of someone who should not be moving around as much as she was, Rey followed him. Her hands crawled along the wall for support, then grabbed at the edge of the counter where she paused to lean against it, allowing her injured ankle to hover just above the tile floor.

          “Kylo, what on earth—?” Rey sighed, recognized his discomfort as it filled the room, and rethought her next words a bit more carefully. “If there’s a chance she knows something, I _have_ to talk with her, Kylo. Please.”

          “Good luck getting there on one foot,” Kylo grumbled miserably, slamming the fridge door shut. The condiment bottles inside rattled dangerously.

          Rey folded her arms across her chest. “There’s more than one way for me to get there, you know. I don’t need you to take me if you won’t.”

          _“Fine!”_ Kylo snapped, spinning around to face her with an alarming display of resentment in his eyes. He jabbed a finger in the direction of the front door. “Go, then!”

          Rey seemed taken aback by this outburst. There was a long moment of silence, heavily-laden with immense tension, in which Rey realized that maybe she didn’t have Kylo Ren quite as figured out as she thought she did.

          “I take it that, um, your relationship with your mother is…a bit strained?” she finally offered. Her voice sounded oddly quiet and weak after Kylo’s yelling.

          He glared coldly at her and shoved his thick hair out of his eyes with one hand.

          “That’s none of your fucking business,” he warned, his voice low and deadly, “and I’d thank you to never bring it up again.”

          Rey swallowed, but she remained impenetrable, hard and cold as steel. She backed down, but not for good. This was only a temporary delay. Another delicate layer she had to peel back very, very carefully, in order to get what she wanted.

 

***

_2 weeks later_

_July 11, 2010_

_Back alley outside Kylo’s house_

_6:16 P.M._

          _She’d stopped asking about my mom after our little rift, but I knew she wasn’t done questioning me, not really. I could see it in the way she looked at me when she didn’t think I was watching. She wanted to_ know _me. What happened between me and my mom was nothing but a speedbump to her; another mystery for her to solve. Like I was a Rubik’s Cube, or the world’s most bland puzzle._

_Her determination annoyed me, but only a little bit. Frankly I was just glad that she’d stayed. She wasn’t scared of me, yet._

_For the time being that felt kind of good, I guess._

The milky-white cloud of smoke threatened to pour out from between Kylo’s lips as he pulled the cigarette away, but with a quick upward flick of his tongue and a sudden breath he recaptured it and guided it with ease into his lungs. He replaced the butt of the smoke between his lips and reached an idle hand down to scratch between the scarred ears of the war-worn tabby cat, who was happily munching down on the can of wet cat food Kylo had given him.

The sun was just disappearing behind the tops of the trees, and the scent of barbecue was adrift on the air. Summer was here. People were having fun and enjoying themselves. Only a week ago the night sky had erupted in a brilliant fireworks display down by the river, and Rey and Kylo had watched it together from Kylo’s front yard, but they didn’t speak. They didn’t ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’. They watched it until it was over, and the humid blackness of the night returned like a raven to nest with the moon and stars upon its wing, and they went back indoors without uttering a sound to one another. Because it might have been a celebration, but it hadn’t felt like it in the least. It had felt hollow. Empty. Pointless. All of this was pointless. The people of Fairview could rejoice all they wanted, but it didn’t erase the fact that the darkness of night would come for all of them sooner rather than later, if Rey and Kylo had anything to do about it.

Kylo heard the backdoor open behind him and his shoulders stiffened absentmindedly. There was still palpable tension between them. She didn’t seem to care about it, though. Kylo figured she just wanted to ignore it so that it might go away sooner. But it affected him differently. Maybe she felt bad for prying. Maybe she regretted it, but then again, maybe she didn’t. Kylo didn’t want to ask.

“Poe drove by again, in Finn’s car,” she said softly, a couple minutes after the door had clicked shut behind them.

“Hmph,” Kylo grumbled, smoke trailing from his nostrils. “That’s like the sixth time today. Good thing he’s too much of a chicken shit to come knock on my door.”

“I suppose it is kind of funny, how he thinks he can intimidate us by slowly driving by a bajillion times a day,” Rey chuckled, sitting down next to Kylo on the step.

It was then that she noticed the gnarled tabby cat, still purring into the tin can of food as he licked it clean. She gasped softly.

“Who’s this, then?”

Kylo shrugged. “He’s a stray alley cat who hangs around my street a lot,”

“And you feed him?” Rey grinned.

“Well, yeah…no one else does. Or they just put out food to leave it there and let all the neighbourhood cats come fight over it and piss on their houses. Me and Crusty have a strong, simple relationship – he meows at my back door every now and again, I give him some food.”

“…‘Crusty’?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s—that’s what I call him. ’Cause he looks kinda…well, crusty.”

“That’s adorable,” Rey said fondly.

Appearing to have recognized Kylo’s name for him, Crusty lifted his head up, obsessively licking his chops. His green eyes landed on Rey and he squinted, uttering a squeaky, purring meow. He was a funny-looking cat. He looked like he had a permanent grimace on his face.

 _“Oooh,”_ Rey cooed. “Look at him!”

Kylo put out his cigarette beneath the toe of his boot. “Yeah, he’s alright, I guess.”

Crusty arched his back in one great stretch of contentment before wandering over to greet Rey with a casual sniff before rubbing against her shins. She petted him happily, scratching between his ears and down his spine. He flopped over so she could easily reach his belly. All the better to show her how well-fed he really was.

“Goodness, how long have you been feeding him for?” Rey giggled, patting the cat’s fluffy belly.

“I don’t know, actually,” Kylo replied, mulling it over. “I guess it’d be coming up on six years, maybe. He’s an old guy.”

“Amazing. I didn’t peg you for the kind of guy who feeds stray cats.”

“I’m not. I feed _one_ stray cat. He’s the best stray cat.”

Rey playfully shoved Kylo with her shoulder, and he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. The tension had eased considerably and things felt, for the moment, mostly normal. The sun was no longer visible but the sky was stained pink and orange and he couldn’t help but admire how the colours reflected in her eyes and gave an aural glow to her skin. This beautiful girl, who’d been left out in the cold to die by those she trusted the most.

It used to be that Kylo stayed here to protect his mother. To watch over the town like some kind of valiant, mythical protector carved from stone. Now, Rey was his sole reason for pretty much everything. And it thrilled him and frightened him at the same time to think about that, and how it had all seemed to happen in the blink of an eye.

After a long moment of silence filled only by the sound of the occasional vehicle and Crusty’s near-constant purring, Rey spoke.

“What are we gonna do now, Kylo?”

He hadn’t been expecting that question and he didn’t know how he should answer it, either. His heart bobbed dangerously in his chest, threatening to sink to his stomach. He’d been thinking about what she had asked him for almost obsessively since that little fight they’d had. Again and again, no matter how many times he tried to evaluate the situation from all different angles, he had come to the conclusion that she was right. Of course she was. So he knew quite well by this point what they had to do next, he just didn’t want to do it, or admit that he knew.

But the only way they were going to get answers was if they asked the right questions to the right people.

“I’ll take you to see her,” he answered begrudgingly, moving pebbles around with his feet. “But you’ll have to do the talking. I don’t think I – I mean, I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, placing a comforting hand upon his knee. “You really don’t even have to tag along if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Kylo retorted, much sharper than he intended to. “No…I’m going with you. I can’t explain why, I just…I feel like I have to. And maybe it’s time, anyway, to see her. Maybe that’s why I feel like I have to go with you. I don’t know. It’s just this feeling…”

And it was just a feeling. It lived deep inside his chest and it felt heavy as a boulder, and every now and again it would throb, not enough to severely pain him but just enough to remind him it was there and make him feel that pang of discomfort. Whether it was a manifestation of his guilt or his regret or something else entirely he didn’t know, but he knew he couldn’t ignore it. Not anymore. Not now that he knew Rey, and they had this mission they had embarked on together. Once again, she was proving to be his reason for almost everything he did these days.

“Sure,” she agreed. “Whatever you need. Just remember you won’t have to do it all alone.”

Kylo nodded. Those words churned up some deep-seated emotions within him. He’d been alone for a very long time. A castaway, rejected by the Order and too ashamed to return to the North side, he’d had to go it alone, often attacked for his relentless, stubborn determination to do so. Both his biological family and his chosen family had been taken from him as a culmination of his own bad choices, but now he had Rey. A new kind of family, and a new opportunity to start making the right choices instead. He wasn’t sure how many more of those opportunities he had left.

He cleared his throat, pushing those mushy thoughts aside for the time being. He would maybe think about them again when he couldn’t feel her thigh against his own.

“How’s your ankle?” he asked, casting a glance down at her foot.

“Much better,” Rey answered. “I’m still a bit wobbly, but I can put almost all my weight on it again. And the swelling’s all gone. There’s still a bit of pain when I move it a certain way, but I think that’s just soft tissue damage. So I’ve been doing little stretches and exercises to combat it.”

Kylo smirked. “Those two years of medical school you did are coming in handy these days, aren’t they?”

“They have their moments,” she admitted. “That reminds me, I haven’t properly thanked you for taking care of me these last couple of weeks.”

Kylo pushed his hair behind his ear and tilted his chin up. “I’m listening,” he sang.

Rey chuckled. As intimidating and down-right scary as he was, he had a very funny silly streak in him that she was quite attracted to, and which only seemed to appear when it was just the two of them alone together.

“You’ve been a really great doctor to me,” she said, “and a friend. None of what I’ve made you do, involuntarily or otherwise, has been particularly easy, and I know that. And I’m just glad that – that you’re still here. You haven’t left me yet. I think a part of me has been waiting for you to do that.”

Kylo’s face turned serious. “I would never,” he said stonily.

“I know,” she smiled. “So thank you.”

She leaned in and placed a delicate kiss upon his scarred cheek. Kylo blinked, completely taken by surprise. Her lips had been gentle, like the whisper of a butterfly’s wings, gone just as quickly as they came, but their delicate pressure lingered there for a long moment, and he could feel the heat that radiated across his cheekbones and nose, emanating from that spot of tender contact.

She took a brief moment to admire the shock upon his face before standing and brushing off her backside. Crusty chirped at her as if bidding her farewell, then he seemed to catch a delicious smell upon the air and slowly, happily, sauntered away.

“I’d better go get ready for my shift,” she said. “We can go and see your mother when you’re ready. I won’t rush you.”

_No rush. Good. I don’t think I could rush to do anything right now, even if I wanted to._

The door closed quietly behind her and Kylo remained sitting, staring off into space, the delirious warmth of her chaste kiss still burning in his cheeks.

It had been a long time since someone had treated him so gently. A long time since anyone had thanked him for anything in any meaningful way. Her action, though simple and common, had affected him in the strangest way. The tender emotions he’d been wrestling with for weeks stirred again, deep within his gut, reminding him that the only reason they’d reared their heads was because of her.

As if he could ever forget that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a "cheeky" lil kiss for ya ;) oh man, even i want to punch me after saying that.
> 
> thanks again for all of your support on this story! your comments make my days so much brighter. i look forward to hearing back from you guys every time i post! :)


	11. a new hope

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=GzhCvGNKSfaYauWPgsRYfw)

_I didn’t sleep at all last night. I couldn’t. My nerves kept me awake; my anxious thoughts like demons on my doorstep, never ceasing in their taunts and jeers. I just kept thinking about the day of reckoning and how it was breathing down my neck, waiting to see if I crumbled in its shadow._

_Rey slept like a baby. I was pacing my room at three in the morning and came out to the kitchen for a glass of water. She was curled up on the couch, snoring into her pillow, only the top half of her head sticking out from under the heavy quilt. I was jealous. But of course she wouldn’t be worried about what the next day could bring; it wasn’t her estranged mother we were going to see._

_I watched the sun come up that morning. Its rose gold fingers poked their way through my curtains and crawled across the ceiling. I stared up from my pillow, watching, as my room filled with that soft, dim morning light, and I sighed._

_I had a very bad feeling about this._

Outside Leia’s home

North Side

11:16 A.M.

July 14, 2010

          Kylo hadn’t taken his eyes off of the tan-coloured stone façade doorway of the old two-storey house at the bottom of the hill since he’d put his car in park. The dark brown door seemed to call his name, his real name, and beckon him inside, but he was afraid. The windows in the house seemed to look back at him, rebuffing him for his poor choices. This was a place which held many of his secrets and yet knew nothing of the man he was today. It felt foreboding to be looking at it this time around, knowing he was going to have to knock on that dark brown door and walk inside. It unnerved him so badly that he didn’t even realize he had become lost in his thoughts until Rey spoke up.

          “Kylo? Are you okay?”

          He blinked and tore his gaze away from the house. Only then did he realize just how fast his heart was beating.

          “I’m fine,” he answered shortly. “It’s just…a little weird, is all.”

          “Of course,” Rey nodded politely, her brows furrowing just a little. “This was your childhood home, wasn’t it?”

          “Yeah, it – it was,” he stammered, swallowing hard as he cast another look at the house. “But I haven’t so much as put a foot down on the front walk in a very long time.”

          His words sounded as hollow as they felt.

          Rey turned in the passenger seat to face him, her expression now one of sympathetic concern.

          “You don’t have to come inside if you don’t want to,” she said, for about the hundredth time that morning. “I’m serious – you can wait around the corner and Leia doesn’t even have to know that you came with me.”

          And for about the hundredth time that morning, Kylo replied, “No, I’m coming in. I have to.”

          He did not lose an entire night’s sleep worrying about this just to _back out_ at the last second. If Rey had taught him anything in the short time they’d been working together, it was to not let his deep-seated fears and emotions get the best of him. Admittedly, it was much harder to do than he’d anticipated, but he couldn’t let Rey know that. And so his pride, as well as an intense, personal need to lay his eyes on his mother once more, pointed him towards the house.

          His heart was dancing to a feverish beat in his chest as they strolled up the front walk. His shoes still seemed to fit perfectly into the grooves of the natural stone pathway; a past project his parents had done together back when Kylo was a child. The colourful plants and bushes seemed to leer at him from beneath the house’s bay window. Suddenly the collar of his shirt felt much too tight.

          When Rey knocked on the door Kylo almost bolted. He took one step back and stopped himself, tightening his hands into fists and clenching his jaw, refusing to move. Rey looked back at him, clearly worried, but he did not make eye contact with her. He was afraid if he did, she may just see all the things he was hiding from her.

          When the door opened and he saw his mother, his first thought was that she had shrunk. She looked much shorter, smaller, and more aged than he remembered. Her once lively brown hair was streaked almost the whole way through with grey and pulled up into a lovely braided top knot. But those deep brown eyes were still aflame with that great passion and determination she had always been known for. She was still Leia. Still his mother.

          First, she saw Rey. There was recognition there. She smiled in a friendly way. But then her gaze lifted to the hulking shadow behind the lovely young girl, and that smile disappeared. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slightly slack – the face of a reformed non-believer. There was a long pause before anyone said anything.

          But then, although it was quiet and oh-so soft, Leia spoke one word – a name – that sent reverberations through both Rey and Kylo. Though, to Kylo, those reverberations felt more like the shockwave which comes after a deadly bomb explosion, and he was suddenly not as steady on his feet as he had been a second ago.

          “Ben?”

His knees threatened to buckle and he instantly dropped his gaze as she spoke to him; he was unable to fight that familiar sensation of guilt and shame. Her voice felt like an admonition, even though the tears that welled in her eyes said different.

          Rey turned back to look at him and something had changed in her face, too. She didn’t know what his real name had been. She’d never heard it before. But it had deeply struck her, somehow; that much was clear.

          “Ben…oh – what…?” Leia stammered, blinking rapidly to try and dispel the hot, stunned tears which threatened to run down her cheeks.

          “Ms. Organa,” Rey spoke clearly, though her voice trembled against the weight which hung between mother and son. “Is it alright if we come inside and speak with you? We have an urgent matter to discuss, and I’m afraid not much time to—”

          There was a squeal of tires that made all three of them flinch. Kylo and Rey turned around to see an old blue Camaro parked haphazardly out front, new tires and all.

          “Shit! Rey, get inside—” Kylo began, urgently pushing the girl towards his mother, all awkwardness temporarily dispersed in the face of danger.

          The driver’s door of the car slammed shut and Poe Dameron began stomping towards them, crushing Leia’s lawn beneath his boots, with his knife gripped hard in his right hand and his eyes hungry for blood. Kylo spread out his arms defensively; the only thing standing between Dameron and the two women.

          He pointed the silver blade of his knife directly at Kylo’s chest.

          “You fucked with my car, you piece of shit,” he cursed, getting ever closer.

          “Well when you’re in the business of trying to take out people on motorcycles, you deserve to have your car fucked with.” Kylo spat.

          “Oh, you can get your scummy, South Side stink out of here right now, you motherfuck—”

          Kylo was shoved suddenly and roughly to the side and he looked over in time to see the narrow silver barrel of a Colt pistol aimed at Dameron’s face, held in the small, steady hand of his own mother.

          Dameron stumbled and halted in his tracks, stunned to see such a small woman look so viciously angry. Kylo would have paid anything to have gotten a photo of Poe’s face in that moment, so that he would remember it always.

          “You have three seconds to get the hell off my property, Poe Dameron, or so help me God I _will_ shoot you,” Leia warned.

          He quickly started to back up, but he hesitated near the edge of the lawn, and it was a mistake. Leia cocked her gun and advanced on him, still quite a terrifying sight to behold.

          “Don’t forget who still holds the power to destroy any chance you have at a future in this town!” Leia threatened. “Don’t be stupid. Leave now and don’t ever let me catch you back here making threats again.”

          Angry and put-out, Poe got back into his car and drove away, making sure to rev the engine and haul on the tires as he went, leaving ugly black streaks on the pavement out front. Leia just shook her head and walked back to welcome her company into her house.

          “Were you really going to shoot him?” Rey asked, astounded, as Leia walked past.

          “Oh, no. It’s not loaded,” Leia smirked, removing the empty magazine to show her. “But you can make a fool believe anything you say if you have the right attitude.”

          “Awesome…” Rey grinned broadly and followed Leia inside, completely in awe of the woman.

          Once past the door the three of them found themselves in a tight little hallway. It had a coat closet and a little nook for shoes. The two women fit quite comfortably in it, but Kylo felt like his shoulders were too broad all of a sudden. He took up a lot of space in the cramped entryway, and it showed. This hallway used to feel so large to him, once upon a time…

          “Ben…” Leia whispered.

          She looked up at her son with eyes that were still surprisingly wet. They fell to his scar and her brow furrowed, her frown lines deepening just slightly. With the tender, healing fingers of a concerned mother she reached out to touch it upon his cheek.

          “Oh…” she choked, and her throat worked hard to swallow the lump inside it. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you…”

          Kylo’s heart was hammering fervently in his chest as his anxiety peaked. His emotions were threatening to take him over but he couldn’t let them, not this time. Movement just behind his mother’s left shoulder caught his eye and he looked up just in time to see Rey awkwardly walking away, her index knuckle held betwixt her teeth.

          Kylo cleared his throat and stepped around his mother. Wrenching himself away from her touch was a lot harder than he anticipated it to be. All he wanted to do was rest his head on her shoulder and let her comfort him; he wanted to feel that familiar sensation of her hands rubbing slow, calming circles on his back, all while she hummed a dreamy tune in his ear. Like she used to do, when he’d been a child, still unmarred by the ghosts of Fairview.

          “Rey.” he called out, following her into the sunken family room.

          She was over by the bookcase, which ran the length of the wall, pretending to read the titles printed upon the spines of books. When he said her name she turned around, eyes a little wider than necessary, and she forced a smile onto her face.

Leia sniffed, pursing her lips tight together in an effort to regain her emotional footing. She blinked hard, wiping at her face with the back of her hand, before following her two guests into the family room.

“Of course, where are my manners,” she said meekly. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. Can I get you anything?”

“No.” Kylo answered loudly, and a bit too quickly.

Rey threw him a puzzled look.

“An ice water would be really great, actually, if I could trouble you for it,” she said politely to Leia, disregarding Kylo’s answer.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back.”

Leia wandered off to the kitchen and Kylo twisted around, tangling his fingers in his hair. He felt very much like how he imagined a caged animal to feel: trapped, anxious, defensive, and panicky. _God,_ the house even _smelled_ like how he remembered it from his childhood. He looked past Rey at the bookcase and there were still framed photos of him there amongst all the volumes. Photos from school and sports, candids, family photoshoots. And he nearly lost it, right then and there. Because it had been _so much easier_ to believe that after he had left she had destroyed every memory of him; wiped her slate clean of his existence, and of all the pain he had caused her. But now he was looking at the very proof which directly contradicted that belief, and reckoning with that truth was like wrestling with a demon.

All of those memories came crashing down around him and he was hopeless to defend himself against them, so long as he remained in this home. He wanted to scream. He wanted to run back out that front door until he was safely on the street, so maybe his head would stop yelling all these familiar but forgotten things at him, and he could finally catch his breath. His vision blurred for a moment, black dots ballooned around the edge of his sight, and he thought for sure he was going to collapse.

But then there was a steady weight on his right forearm and he jumped, for it pulled him right out of his head and the puddle of quicksand it had become in one jarring moment. Rey stood there, looking up at him with honest-to-god concern writ all over her face. And just like that, the panic began to ease bit by bit.

“Are you going to be okay?” she asked quietly. “You look really pale.”

He shuddered and blinked before nodding, even though he wasn’t sure he was making any conscious effort to do so.

“We can leave whenever you need to. Just let me know.” She whispered.

He didn’t get a chance to respond before Leia returned with Rey’s glass of ice water, which she accepted gratefully. _She’s drinking it like it’s a magical potion that can dissolve the unbearable tension in this room. Maybe I should’ve asked for some too if that’s the case._

“Well, I wish I could say I was surprised by Poe’s little tirade just then, but that’s absolutely not the case,” Leia sighed and shook her head.

Rey swallowed a mouthful of water. “Has he always been so…touchy?”

“No, not always,” Leia frowned. “He’s always been a free spirit, but there was a time when he wasn’t so desperate to prove a point.”

Kylo huffed, but it went unnoticed.

“He joined the Air Force instead of going to college,” Leia continued. “They say he was an incredible pilot; like he was meant to fly, and I believe it. He always was obsessed with planes and spaceships as a young boy. But, something happened while he was away, or maybe it was several somethings. No one knows because he’s never talked about it. Either way, he saw war, _real_ war, and that changes a person.

“Then one day he just showed back up at home, here in Fairview. Said he’d been forced to take a leave after a tussle of some sort with a superior, and he’s been a wicked little nuisance ever since, both for the Order and the Resistance. He’s always had a reckless streak, but it’s much worse now than it ever was before he left.”

“Hm,” Rey murmured, “that explains a lot, actually.”

“Yes, it does.”

Leia took a seat in an armchair and appraised the two of them with a searching gaze. A thousand questions flickered behind those eyes. Rey and Kylo sat too, in their own respective armchairs, and tried not to wriggle away from her attentions, despite how badly they may have wanted to.

“Rey,” Leia smiled fondly at the girl. “It’s been years since I saw you last. You were much younger then, and far more devoted to the Resistance than you appear to be now. I have to admit, the last person I’d expect to see you with is my son.”

Kylo looked sourly at the afghan rug on the floor.

“Yes, I’m sure it does seem like an odd combination to you,” Rey agreed sheepishly. “And for us to show up unannounced on your doorstep to boot…”

“I’ll admit I’m still a little shocked. However, it just tells me that you two obviously came here for a reason,” she said. Her gaze landed pointedly on her son. “It must be a pretty big reason, too.”

“Sort of,” Rey explained, hurrying to fill the silence and redirect Leia’s attention off of Kylo. “We’re looking for someone.”

“Ah,” A knowing smirk crossed Leia’s face. “For good reasons or bad ones?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you who we’re looking for, and then you can decide that answer for yourself,” Rey responded cheekily. “It’s Sheev Palpatine.”

A shadow crossed Leia’s face. That same shadow that seemed to appear around anyone who had known the man, anytime his name was mentioned.

“I see,” she replied slowly, sitting up in her chair. “May I ask why?”

“It’s…complicated,” Rey shuffled uneasily. “But, to put it in the simplest of terms, I think he had my parents killed.”

Leia didn’t speak, or make any noise. Instead, she looked away from Rey and directly at Kylo. His eyes, almost exact mirrors of his mother’s, connected with hers, and an icy chill crept down his spine. There was something strange there, in her gaze. A question aimed at him, but which he could not puzzle out. It unnerved him deeply, however. _What does she know that I don’t?_

“And you wish for me to help you find him?” Leia finally queried, in a much quieter voice.

“Find him, or just give us any information you can, really,” Rey answered.

Leia mulled it over in her head for a minute or two. It didn’t take long for Rey to start squirming and fidgeting; so desperate was she for an answer at this point. Even Kylo was on the edge of his seat with anticipation.

 _She has to know something,_ he told himself with confidence. _She always knows something._

“What’s your goal once you find who you’re looking for, if you find him at all?” Leia finally asked. “How do you intend on bringing down a criminal mastermind with a penchant for manipulation?”

Rey chuckled humourlessly. “You sound like your son.”

Leia raised her brows. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No, no,” Rey blinked, afraid to have offended. “It’s not a bad thing. He just asked me the same type of question when I told him, that’s all.”

“And what was your answer?”

“I want to make him pay. I want to make them all pay. I know it was a partnered job, between the Resistance and the Order. There’s a whole conspiracy behind it, and I know that for certain now. Neither organization deserves to maintain a hold over this town when both have plenty of blood on their hands from all the backstage handshakes they’ve shared over the years.”

Leia closed her eyes and smiled, even chuckled a little.

“That’s what I thought you’d say.”

“And? What do you think?” Rey posed, lifting her cup to her mouth to finish off her water.

“I think…you’re right. It’s time for it all to end.”

Both Kylo and Rey were somewhat taken aback by this. They had both expected more opposition from her, given her history in the early days of the Resistance.

          Leia sighed heavily and, slouching down in the armchair, her age shone through a little. It was clear that she was tired. The weight of this town had nearly crushed her more than once and she was exhausted from all the fighting. If anyone could understand that, Rey and Kylo could.

          “This was a sham mission right from the start,” Leia explained slowly, allowing her thoughts to spill freely from her lips. “There was no reasoning behind it. No good or bad, only ugly. Only confusion, and humiliation, and suffering. This all started because of a war overseas that wasn’t really even ours to fight; nevertheless those men brought it home with them and honestly, I don’t know what we expected all of this to become in the long run.”

          “It was supposed to be a community,” Kylo spoke up, “a safe-haven. But it wasn’t, and I don’t think it ever was. That idea was built on the false hope that everyone participating was inherently _good_ , but few if any actually were. Or maybe they had been, before they went over to fight. But if that was the case, a lot of them came back changed.”

          “You’re very right,” Leia nodded solemnly. “It was hopeless, to think it could ever remain something so innocent. A motorcycle club, or a community watch club…there was no difference between the two here. One has never been better or worse than the other. They’re just two equal, opposed forces bent on the destruction of the other. And I’m afraid this town has been locked in a continuous, looping battle for many years now.”

          “That’s why we want to stop it,” Rey said. “We want to be the cog in this great ugly machine that breaks free and shuts the whole operation down.”

          Leia smiled weakly. “It’s a lovely thought, to be sure. But how can you hope to accomplish that?”

          Rey looked at Kylo, who quickly averted his gaze to the rug again. Sure, it wasn’t a question Rey wanted to have to answer, but his mother had a point. It was one he’d spent his fair share of time considering himself.

          “Certainly the numbers aren’t what they used to be, but taking on the Order _and_ the Resistance in a bid to save the town is a huge task, and severely weighted to one side.” She looked at Rey with sympathy. “I don’t mean to rain on your parade. It’s just the reality of the situation.”

          Rey’s mouth worked around her frustration at this. Kylo could practically see the dark storm cloud which threatened to pour buckets on top of her head before it passed, just as quickly as it had appeared.

          “With all due respect, I know the reality of this place. I’ve lived it my whole life, just like Kylo – _Ben_ has,” Rey began firmly.

          A strange thrill ran up Kylo’s spine when she spoke his real name aloud. _Maybe I could learn to like that name again…_ he thought absently.

          “It’s poison. And quite frankly I don’t care if we’re just two people standing at the mouth of hell, because for crying out loud, _somebody’s got to_! If no one is brave enough to _begin_ the rebellion, how can we ever hope to escape this merciless cycle of hatred?”

          She had caught Leia’s attention, that’s for certain. The older woman was clearly impressed. She began to smile fondly at her younger counterpart, warm brown eyes twinkling with cause, with _hope_.

          “Oh, I like the way you think,” Leia complimented dreamily. “I’ve waited a long time to hear somebody besides myself say something like that.”

          Rey blinked in shock. “So…are you saying you want in?”

          “That’s definitely not _not_ what I’m saying,” Leia winked and stood from her chair, sparked by a sudden burst of energy. “I think I am too old now to be of much assistance to you out there. If this is to succeed, you’re going to need more help.”

          Kylo stood too, following his mother with his stare, hard and penetrating.

          “No,” he said firmly. “We can’t afford to drag more people into this. It’s too risky.”

          Leia turned around and folded her arms across her chest. Kylo felt the intrinsic urge to shy away from her looming shadow, which was five times bigger than her. But he stood his ground, despite a significant and sudden decline in confidence.

          “Really?” Leia asked, raising her brows. “Look, I know you’d prefer to keep this operation small, but I don’t think you can. You don’t have a chance if you don’t have allies. This entire town would end up becoming your enemy, and no one has ever won a fight against those odds.”

          “Never tell me the odds.”

          Leia’s expression softened as Kylo quoted his father quite on purpose. Han had been a risk-taker his entire life, right up until the end. A trait which had made Leia fall in love with him, and which he had passed down to his only son. Kylo had hoped reminding Leia of all this would sway her a little bit, and it almost did. But not quite.

          “Ben…” Leia pleaded gently. “You know I’m right. Open your eyes, son.”

          He huffed, turning away quickly and pushing his hair back, as he often did when he got frustrated. He walked away a few paces, thinking hard, before coming back around to face Rey and his mother.

          “Who would even join us? I can’t think of one person in this entire town besides the three of us with enough balls to tear it down.” He retorted grumpily.

          “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Leia winked and walked off to her secretary desk. She opened the hatch and fished around inside for a minute before producing an outdated address book. Flipping it open almost to the very back page, she tapped at it with her index finger and brought it back to show her company.

          “There’s plenty of people willing to answer the call, if you know where to look for them,” she explained.

          There were three full pages of names and numbers and addresses. Kylo recognized a few names from his youth, like Jyn Erso and Cassian Andor, who had been old friends of his mothers’. But mostly, the names were strangers to him. _Who’s Rose and Paige Tico? And what kind of name is Kaydel Connix?_

          Rey, however, took the address book in her hands like it was a holy grail. Those wide hazel eyes poured over the names, no doubt memorizing them and logging them away for later. This was a treasure trove of information to her, and rightfully so. No doubt she saw it as a sign of hope, even if Kylo felt uneasy about the whole thing.

          “I’ve been anticipating a day like this for quite a while now, and as you can see I was never alone in that,” Leia explained. “All of these people have expressed their disillusionment for the Order and the Resistance in the past. Several of them have defected from one side or another and abandoned the cause altogether. Now some live elsewhere while others are still scattered around Fairview and its neighbouring communities. I can’t promise all of them will join you, but I can guarantee enough of them will express serious interest. Just tell them where you got their information from, and they’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

          “Wow, this is…incredible!” Rey exclaimed gleefully. “Thank you, so much.”

          “Of course,” Leia smiled warmly.

          Kylo didn’t like any of it. More people invading their space? More people throwing in their two cents like it matters at all? More people meant more chances for things to go wrong. Plus, how could they know that any of the names in that book could be trusted? How many of them were corrupted, or easily manipulated? How greedy were they?

          As if she had heard her son’s rampaging thoughts, Leia put a gentle hand on his arm and snapped him out of his moody reverie.

          “You can trust these people, Ben. I promise,” she soothed. “I wouldn’t have bothered to put their names in this book if they weren’t good people.”

          “…Right.” Kylo sighed. He still wasn’t convinced.

          “At the very least they can maybe help you devise a plan that won’t get you both killed,” Leia said. “Which is another thing: you need to be more careful.”

          The smile fell away from Rey’s face. She lifted her eyes to Leia’s and found herself wanting to shy away, much like Kylo had wanted to earlier. Leia’s tone wasn’t harsh, but it was firm.

          “This is incredibly risky and there are eyes everywhere,” she warned.

          Kylo took in a breath to argue, but his mother stuck out a silencing hand and interrupted him before he could speak.

          “I know you know about the risks, Ben,” she said. “But you’re treading on thin ice right now, considering that Poe Dameron just showed up and threatened the both of you on my doorstep not very long ago. You need to be more inconspicuous about this, do you understand? One Resistance member breathing down your necks is one too many.”

          “We understand,” Rey said sheepishly. “Poe was…well, it was a whole other thing. Anyway, we won’t make any more mistakes. Will we?”

          She looked to Kylo, who suddenly found himself unable to look into her eyes for longer than three seconds. He made a gruff noise and shook his head.

          “No, we won’t.” he grumbled.

          “Good.” Leia nodded. “If anything goes south, Ben, remember your Aunt Amilyn.”

          Kylo’s eyes widened. _Aunt Amilyn. Another mirage from my past I’d forgotten about…_

          “Who’s that?” Rey inquired.

          “One of my oldest friends,” Leia explained fondly. “She lives by herself at a farmhouse a couple hours outside of town, smack-dab in the middle of nowhere. Self-sustaining and everything. If things get too intense here, she’d gladly take the both of you in until it’s safe for you to return.”

          “Wow…” Rey breathed, clearly blown away by everything she was learning.

          “Oh, and about Palpatine: I’ll ask around for you and see what I can find out. I haven’t heard a thing about him in years, but if I find anything I’ll let you know.”

          “Oh that would be marvelous, thank you,” Rey gushed. “You’ve been such a huge help to us…we owe you.”

          “No, you don’t,” Leia waved her off and admired her son with those gentle motherly eyes of hers. “You’ve given me enough already.”

          Kylo cleared his throat awkwardly. He was starting to get that suffocating sensation; the early stages of panic settling back in. If he didn’t move, it would quickly be followed by dizziness and that annoying flurry of emotions that made him say and do stupid things, and he didn’t think Rey could stop it this time. _It’s time to leave._

          “We should get going,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I, uh – this was – um, thanks.”

          Leia smiled affectionately in reply.

          They said their goodbyes in the cramped front hallway. Rey quickly promised that they’d come back again soon, before Kylo could say anything about it. They checked to make sure the coast was clear before leaving the house. Rey went first, going straight to the car. Kylo made to follow close behind, but before he could take his first step out of the house, he felt a tug on his arm and stopped to find his mother looking curiously up at him, brow furrowed in thought.

          “What’s wrong?” he asked, puzzled.

          “Ben…you really don’t remember?” she whispered.

          “…Remember what?”

          “Her parents?” Leia pointed her chin in Rey’s direction.

          Kylo blinked, taken aback, as though his mother had just struck him across the face. “No, I – should I? I don’t…”

          “Hm...”

          He opened his arms, clueless and pleading.

          “Mom,” he said firmly, desperately, startling her a little, “should I? What does that mean? What do you know?”

          Leia frowned and suddenly looked very sad, as though one of her worst fears had just been confirmed.

          “Nothing, nothing,” Leia shook her head and squeezed her eyes tight shut for a minute. “I must be thinking of something else…don’t worry.”

          “‘Don’t worry’? You’re joking, right?”

          She squeezed his arm in comfort. “It’s good that you’re protecting her now, when she needs it the most.”

          “Mom…”

 Kylo’s heart felt like it weighed twenty pounds suddenly. There were so many things he wanted to say to that, but he couldn’t get any of them out. _Mom, please…I can’t remember chunks of my life…I need help. Please help me. I forgot, and I’m scared…_

          “I love you, son,” Leia whispered. “I never stopped. I need you to know that.”

          He had no words to say to that either. Nothing. His mouth worked as the significance of her words slipped past his self-made armour and crept beneath his skin. They were healing words, to be sure, but they weighed on him all the same. He did not feel deserving of them in the least.

          “Now go; she’s waiting for you. And Poe may still come back.” Leia ushered her son outside and gave him one more smile before closing the door.

          Kylo stood there on the front walkway for a brief moment, frozen, his entire body and mind having stalled out. When they clicked back into place, he was left reeling. He felt like his entire grip on reality had been stolen out from under him, and now he was just eternally falling into a great black void. If he hadn’t felt so numb, he might have been angry at Leia for even saying anything. He’d been just fine, living in the dark, without this great, looming question hanging over him, the answer to which could potentially destroy him. He wasn’t even sure if she realized what she’d done.

Walking stiffly to his car, he felt incredibly nervous about getting inside. He knew the second he did Rey would be going on and on about her renewed excitement for this mission, about who they should call first, about when they should come back and see Leia again. And he would just sit there in the driver’s seat, thinking the same one thing, over and over and over again.

          _Don’t you remember her parents? Should I? I…I can’t…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, an update! amirite?? and it's a long one to boot! a lot of new(ish) characters are about to be introduced into this universe! please be patient with me as i sort out their dynamics, haha.
> 
> this story is getting close to 200 kudos!! that's exciting! thank you for all your support so far, you've all been so kind and reaffirming, even when i'm on my bullshit. 
> 
> this continues to be the slowest burn i've ever burned. every chapter i write where these two aren't bangin' is torture, believe me. but i've got some stuff in store, so long as you're willing to stick with me through this awkward drought phase!
> 
> as always let me know what you thought in the comments below, and feel free to visit me on tumblr @reylo-solo or on twitter @reyloghosts!


	12. hold your breath

 

 

Sweeter than wine  
Softer than the summer night  
Everything I want, I have  
Whenever I hold you tight

 

This magic moment while your lips are close to mine  
Will last forever, forever 'till the end of time

 

**

 

_My mother’s words lived in my head for days after we saw her, taunting me. Demanding to know why I couldn’t make sense of them. And I felt like such a fucking failure._

_I burned through all my cigarettes. I stayed late nights at Lloyd’s, just so I wouldn’t have to go back to Rey and pretend like nothing was eating away at me. Even though I didn’t know what it was I should remember, I knew in my gut that it wasn’t something I could risk her getting a whiff of. It was too painful for me, and for her._

_Maybe it was better it stayed buried._

Java Hut, Exterior

South Side Fairview

2:30 P.M.

July 19, 2010

 

“You want to _what_?”

Kylo put his iced coffee down on the top of the patio table they were sat at and raised his brows at Rey, who sighed and shifted in her seat, slightly uncomforted by his reaction.

          “I just thought, with everything going on, and all that’s about to go down, maybe we could do with a little…breather.” She clarified. Quickly, she began to play with the straw in her drink.

          “Yeah…and you want to do that _where_?”

          “At the riverside, on the beach.”

          Kylo settled back in his seat, looking at her skeptically.

          “Uh-huh. Let me ask you this: do I strike you as a ‘beach bum’?”

          Rey rolled her eyes at him. “I know you’ve been stressed lately, and it’s only gotten worse after we visited Leia.”

          He pointed a warning finger at her.

          “No, you _think_ you know, but you’re just guessing.” He argued.

          “Oh, really? So you’ve just been smoking down a pack a day lately for no reason, then.” She quipped.

          Kylo was silent for a moment, then, “…Shut up.”

          “What’s the harm in having some fun before we potentially die? Huh?” Rey demanded, leaning across the table to plead with him. “We’ve contacted everybody in Leia’s book and we’re gathering everyone who was interested. That’s off our plates now until the meeting. We even booked a private room at a lounge in Portland so we can talk about everything in complete safety!”

          “It’s in a hookah lounge, but yeah, sure. I guess,” Kylo grumbled.

          “So? Everybody loves hookahs. It’ll be a conversation starter – anyway, we’ve already been over this _dozens_ of times. C’mon, Kylo. Please? For me?”

          That was hardly a request he could deny, as he’d proven time and time again.

          “Fine,” he muttered begrudgingly. “But if you think for even one second that I would so much as _entertain_ the thought of going to the public beach with you, you’re out of your mind.”

          Rey’s shoulders slouched and she muttered under her breath, “Well, you also said that you’d never let me –”

          “Rey, I swear to any and every god that there is or ever was, if you bring up that thing about me letting you sleep in my bed _one more fucking time_ –”

          “Where else do you propose we go then?” Rey interrupted in exasperation.

          “I know a place,”

          “ _Of_ course you do.”

          “It’s _secluded_ , and there’s lots of shade, and a little waterfall. It’s out of town a little ways and down a back road or two. I suppose I could ask Reggie if we could borrow his old truck…”

          “Hold on – how sketchy is this place of yours? Is it a make-out point situation or a used dope needle situation?”

          “A make-out point? Seriously?”

          “You never know. Just making sure you’re not secretly trying to romance me or something.”

          “ _Romance_ —? No!” He, of course, had to pretend to act shocked by this. Truthfully, the thought hadn’t _really_ crossed his mind, but now that she mentioned it, when she had proposed going to the beach with him it had excited him – just a little.

          “If that’s what you think we can just not go,” he growled, trying to keep his cover.

          It worked. Or maybe that’s just what she wanted him to think.

          She chuckled mercifully. “Will there be peepers at this place of yours? Other beach-bums like us?”

          “Fuck no. Only me and maybe one or two other people know about it, I think. There’s a meadow and a rocky beach…you’ll love it. Or you _will_ love it, if you want to go to the beach. Because that’s the only one you’ll catch me at.”

          “Fine. Can you get tomorrow off work?”

          “I should be able to.”

          “Good. It’s a date then.”

          Rey stood from the table and tossed her empty cup into a nearby receptacle. Kylo remained rooted to his seat for a second longer, trying to convince himself that he hadn’t just heard what he thought he had.

          _She doesn’t mean it like that, you fucking tool,_ he chastised himself. _It’s just a saying. It’s innocent. It’s_ nothing _. That’s all this will ever be._

“Hey!” Rey’s shout jolted him back into reality with a hard tug. “Are you coming or what?”

          Slowly, he stood and finished the remains of his black coffee.

          “’m coming,” he mumbled, faithfully trailing after her.

          _Nothing._

 

***

 

July 20

Kylo’s House

2:15 P.M.

 

          The front door opened with a slight creak and Kylo groaned loudly from his seat on the couch, where he’d been half-watching reruns of _Law & Order_ for the last two and a half hours.

          “Finally,” he complained, standing up and stretching emphatically just as Rey walked into the room. “What the hell is this surprise of yours if it took you over two hours to go out and get it?”

          She grinned like only a goofball could, walked into the living room, and set her oversized purse down on the coffee table.

          “Sorry,” she apologized, still smiling. “I had to get it from this friend of mine who sells it, and I haven’t seen him in a while, so we got talking and…” She paused to chuckle at some recently-recalled memory. “Anyway, do you have any guesses as to what I got you?”      

          Ren tried to swallow the faint pang of jealousy he felt upon her mentioning that she had been with another man for that long. _She’s not mine to be with,_ he reminded himself (something he’d been doing a lot more of recently). _I have no right to be jealous. So why am I_ really _fucking jealous?_

          He huffed, masking this unfamiliar and bitter emotion with annoyance.

          “No,” he grumbled, “and I’m not making any.”

          Rey frowned. “You’re no fun,” she teased.

          “And?”

          “Maybe you’ll have a guess when I open my purse…”

          She pulled the zipper and held the bag up to him, like she was offering a child to a god. Kylo appraised it coolly at first, even leaning away from it a little, before the smell hit him. That delicious, pungent, earthy smell of weed.

          Quickly, he grabbed her purse and dug the thrice-wrapped bag of pre-rolled joints out of its main pocket. His eyes widened as he held it up to his face.

          “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You got pre-rolls?!”

          “I thought it could make our beach day more enjoyable. I know you’ve been without for a little while, you know, since your dealer kind of died,” she said abashedly.

          “Yes, since, you know, you stuck a knife in his throat,” Kylo reminded her, putting her purse back down on the table.

          Rey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. I killed your weed guy. Fuck me, I guess.”

          Kylo opened his mouth and nearly, _so very nearly_ , said the first thing that came to his mind, but thankfully stopped himself just in the nick of time.

          _Maybe I will._

          “Anyway, I remembered this old friend of mine in the north-end, Chewie –”

          “Wait – Chewie…? Is that, uh, a really tall guy, super friendly, with some of the thickest, shaggiest hair you’ve ever seen?” Kylo asked.

          “Yeah, that’s the one.”

          “Damn! That guy’s still around?” He broke out into a grin. “My dad used to be best friends with him. He must be getting ancient.”

          “He’s gone pretty grey, but he’s still got that same attitude,” Rey smiled fondly. “Anyway, he said this was good stuff, and that you’d like it.”

          “You told him about me?” Kylo deadpanned.

          Rey flushed and ran her fingers through her hair awkwardly.

“Yeah…well, we smoked a joint or two together, and…it just kind of slipped out. Sorry.” she mumbled. “But if it makes you feel any better, he didn’t seem upset. Shocked, definitely. But I think…I think he remembers you pretty fondly, despite everything.”

“Hm, I see.”

Kylo wasn’t sure how that made him feel. Relieved, he supposed. It’s always good to know that not _everyone_ hates you. But he couldn’t think about it too much. He was too focused on how that jealousy had dispersed the second he found out who Rey had been with.

“Let’s not think about that!” Rey said, almost too happily. “I’m sorry I even brought it up! We have a beach to go laze on, do we not?”

          “I guess so, if you’re finally ready.”

          “Nope!” she said cheerily. “I need to put my swimsuit on! I had to go buy one just for this.”

          “Oh for Christ’s sake. Seriously?”

          “It’ll only take a sec! Wait here.”

          Kylo rolled his eyes and sat back down to finish watching TV. Who knew how long he’d be waiting for this time, after all?

          As it turned out, she was only in the bathroom for ten minutes before she exited. Kylo’s eyes jumped to her the second she walked into the hallway, and for a long second he thought his heart was going to choke him to death.

          She was tying her hair up in a bun atop the crown of her head, and she wore nothing but ripped denim shorts, unzipped, over a tight-fitting black one piece with fancy cross-straps and mesh up the sides. But he didn’t notice the straps, or even the mesh, really. His eyes were instantly drawn to the alluring length of her warm, toned legs, and the way her bathing suit clung to her waist and chest, leaving just enough to the imagination that he couldn’t easily look away.

          “Oh! I forgot to get towels. Be right back!” She spun on her heel and returned to the bathroom, and Kylo watched her go.

          _Oh…_ he thought. _Fuck. Me. Sideways._

 _God damn it!_ With one fist he dug his knuckles sharply into his upper thigh, gritting his teeth and squirming in his seat, partly out of annoyance, and partly out of hindrance. _I’m fucked. Why did I agree to this? Why did I think she’d wear a t-shirt to swim in? Why am I creeping_ myself _out?!_

          Frustrated that he could sabotage himself like this, he stood and started to pace the entryway. He grabbed his car keys as he went and began rattling them around in his palm for a distraction.

          She returned with a beach bag and towels in hand. Next, she gathered the joints, two lighters, and two water bottles, and handed Kylo his sunglasses.

          She rested her bright pink ones atop her head and looked up at him. Only then did he remember to close his mouth.

          “Now I’m ready.”

          “About damn time,” he grumbled.

          “Oh, lighten up,” Rey smirked and bumped him with her hip as they left the house. “Let’s go get Reggie’s truck.”

          Once she had passed him and was occupied loading her bag into the back of his car, he released a long sigh.

          _This is gonna kill me._

 

***

 

          Kylo had been right. They were the only two people there, and it was _lovely_.

          They had parked the truck on the side of an old, torn-up backroad out of town, and then walked about half a mile down an embankment and through a sparse patch of trees, which grew a little thicker as they went on. Kylo went ahead so he could hold the long, overhanging branches out of the way for her.

          The air was cleaner there. A light breeze trailed through the tree trunks, and the sun stretched down its rays towards them through the natural canopy of the forest. All the leaves that the sunlight passed through on its way down to them tinted it a warm, yellow-green colour. Kylo liked how it accentuated the green tones in her eyes. She looked like a woodland fairy queen, quite at home walking upon the moss-covered ground.

          Eventually, the pair of them broke through the tree line and entered a small but lush clearing. The grass tickled Rey’s calves, and little white and yellow flowers grew in small patches all about. They paused here and listened to the titter of birds, flying away from their intrusion.

          Rey smiled broadly and bent down to pluck a yellow flower from the ground. Carefully, she wove it into the elastic which held her hair in place, and then proceeded to flash Kylo a bright and dazzling smile.

          _God damn it._ He’d never wanted to lay someone down upon the grass and kiss them so badly before.

          “This is beautiful,” she mused, raising her gaze to the sky.

          “Yeah…” Kylo mumbled distractedly.

          “Now, where’s this beach you promised me?”

Her hands rested lightly upon the slight swell of her hips. He wanted to rest his hands there, too. He wanted to hold her there, firmly, and keep her body flush with his…

“Uh – oh, it’s-uh,” He swallowed a mysterious lump in his throat and walked, silently requesting that she follow. “It’s down this embankment and just to the east a ways.”

They reached the foretold embankment, only to pause in stark realization.

“Huh,” Kylo said. “It’s a bit steeper than I remember.”

“Pfft. Any steeper and it’d be a vertical drop,” Rey exaggerated, leaning over the edge of the rocky hill. “What do you propose we do now, Ranger Smith?”

Kylo gave her a strange look, to which she replied, “C’mon, that was a Yogi Bear reference. Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

“I propose we go down,” Kylo said simply. He offered her his hand. “Or are you afraid?”

Rey looked down at his palm for a moment as if in contemplation before firmly taking it and fixing him with a hard stare of determination.

“Never.”

Hand-in-hand, they made their way down the steep face of the embankment, angling to the east. For saying she wasn’t afraid, Kylo couldn’t help but feel she was gripping his hand pretty tight. Or maybe he was the one holding hers so tight that he couldn’t even tell them apart. Either way, by the time they made it down to flat ground again, he felt a pang of disappointment as her hand slid out of his.

“Can you hear the waterfall now?” he asked.

She perked up instantly because yes, she could. A gentle rumble of white noise and trickling water, and it was nearby.

Next, he led her through another grove of trees and around a rocky knoll, and when Rey lifted her gaze, they landed upon a wide pool of water, filled by the ever-flowing, narrow waterfall which careened over a pale rocky cliff nearly sixty feet high. The water disappeared into the trees, where it connected back to the river system.

Rey gasped and walked slowly out onto the beach, largely made up of smooth river stones and tiny, empty snail shells.

“Oh, Kylo…” she breathed, walking straight to the water’s edge and taking off her sandals so she could feel it on her toes.

“Do you like it?” he asked, somewhat bashfully, as he followed behind.

“I’ve really got to give it to you,” she admitted. “This is a thousand times better than any public beach I’ve ever been to.”

He chuckled softly, and instantly felt more relaxed.

They set up their towels and sparked up one of the pre-rolled joints Rey had purchased. It tasted like lemon and earth. Once they were high and giggly, Kylo took her over by the waterfall, where they climbed up a hill and on top of a few large boulders which, Kylo proclaimed, served as the best diving spot.

“Oh really, you dive?” Rey laughed, raising her eyebrows at him.

“When I want to,” he defended. “Are you gonna?”

“Gonna what? _Dive_?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t – I mean, I don’t know. Doesn’t it kind of…freak you out?”

“No. I guess maybe a little. That tingling of nerves in your gut, right before you do it. That happens. But you breathe through it and go anyway and before you know it you’re in the water, and the tingling has stopped.”

“Hm. Maybe I will then.”

“I can help you if you want,” He grinned. “I can give you a little shove.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rey retorted sharply, pointing a finger at him. “If I go down I’m taking you with me.”

“Of course.”

Kylo wandered closer to the edge of the rock face and peered down into the dark blue of the calm waters below.

“It’s not that far, really. Maybe thirty feet, probably closer to twenty-five…”

“Yes, well. Pushing just wouldn’t be nice, is all.”

“I’m not gonna push you, you wuss— _FUCK!_ ”

He felt two hands against his shoulder blades, and the next thing Kylo knew, he was toppling over the edge of the small cliff towards the water. He had his black swimming trunks on, but he still wore his shirt from earlier.

He managed to hit the water properly, or at least properly enough. The outside world went mute for a minute as he sank past the water’s surface; the only sound the rushing of air bubbles past his ears. He propelled himself upwards and broke back through in a flurry of water droplets, sucking in air. He made a loud, shocked noise as the coolness of the water really hit him.

It wasn’t long before the sound of Rey’s hearty laughter reached his ears. He pushed his dripping hair out of his face and looked up, where he could just see her doubled-over near the cliff’s edge, holding her mid-section.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re kind of an asshole?” Kylo called up to her, spitting water out of his mouth. Under his breath, he added, “Pushing wouldn’t be nice my ass…”

“ _Ah_ …ha-ha…yeah, actually,” Rey replied, wiping tears from her eyes. “What about it?”

“Now it’s your turn!” he shouted. “You jump or I’ll make you walk home.”

“You’ll _what_? You won’t do that.” She laughed.

“I will, Rey, I swear – get in the water!”

“When I’m good and ready.”

“Now!”

 “I have to take my shorts off first,”

“No, you leave those shorts on! If I have to have my shirt on still –”

She peered over the edge, teasing him.

“I don’t know, it looks pretty far down from here.”

“Of course it does from up there,” Kylo sighed. “Just come down and you’ll see it’s really not that far at all.”

“ _Ohh_ , you’re clever,” she complimented.

He smirked and splashed water over his face with cupped hands, making sure to keep his hair pushed back and out of his eyes. The water collected in fine drops amongst the short, dark hairs upon his chin and jaw, and dripped down his throat where it soaked into his already drenched shirt.

“Rey, I’m getting really tired of this…” he warned.

“Fine. I’ll jump.” She disappeared past the edge of the boulders, only to reappear a short second later. “Are you going to catch me?”

Kylo scoffed. “No.”

“Rude.”

Gone again. Kylo waited a long minute, and still there was no sign of her.

“I’m waiting,” he beckoned.

“Don’t rush me!”

He chuckled to himself.

Another beat passed. And then, suddenly, she was hurtling into empty space with her eyes squeezed shut and her cheeks full of air, her shorts still on. She hit the water feet first and went in clean, with only a minor splash which still managed to sprinkle Kylo with water droplets. She resurfaced and sucked in air, letting it out in a small scream of relief.

“Finally!” Kylo laughed.

Loose hairs clung to her forehead, neck, and cheeks, and water caught in her eyelashes, clumping them together in slick, straight formations. Her chest heaved as she caught her breath and tried to stay afloat at the same time. The little yellow flower in her hair had not survived.

“Oh, that’s cold!” she squeaked, pushing her hair out of her face.

“Only at first,” Kylo chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. Here, let me help speed things up.”

His hands were quite large; he could catch a surprising amount of water in them. So when he pulled his arm back and swung it forwards again in one great, curved sweep, catching the very surface of the water in his palm, he drenched her for the second time.

 _“HEY!”_ she shouted, sputtering in shock. “That was incredibly uncalled for!”

“Yeah? Well so was pushing me off the rocks, so maybe we’re even now.”

“…That’s fair.”

They were fools if they thought it wouldn’t turn into an incredibly charged water fight. They were soon chasing each other around in the water, laughing breathlessly like children having the time of their lives, splashing water at one another and trying to dodge their opponent. Kylo still wore his shirt; Rey still wore her shorts. And neither one of them cared an inch.

Kylo was just admiring how Rey looked, with her hair falling out of its sodden bun, and the water droplets gathering on her cheekbones and the curve of her shoulders, trickling down like fine rain when they grew too heavy. Something about a beautiful summer day made her smile seem even brighter – a feat he hadn’t thought to be possible.

“Want to go under the waterfall?” Kylo inquired.

Rey quickly, and energetically, agreed, taking off towards their destination before he could even start swimming.

He watched her dive below the water’s surface, and his eyes followed her under, where her silhouette was warped by the ripples of the pool. He followed her closely to the waterfall, where she paused just before it to admire the way the sunlight made a rainbow in the water’s mist as it struck the rocks on its way down. Kylo smirked, because it was _just like her_ to get distracted by something so simplistically beautiful, and then he slipped under the water stream.

Behind the cascading water was a small, hollowed-out cavern, cut into the rocks after years and years of water erosion. The temperature dropped a few degrees inside the cave, hidden as it was from the sun and naturally cooled by the water, which reflected in a twinkling, interlocking pattern all around the cave.

Kylo was just brushing water from his eyes when the water rippled before him and Rey rose up, having elected to dive under the waterfall. Her eyes blinked open slowly, only to notice that she had resurfaced a mere two inches away from Kylo, who was looking down at her through half-lidded, uncertain eyes.

It all seemed to happen in slow-motion. The silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity and during that time they both remained frozen, floating so closely to one another. Kylo hesitated only because he thought she would react first, and when she did no such thing he wasn’t sure where to go from there. His mind spiralled and came to a screeching, sputtering halt. His chest felt painfully tight.

Her eyes fell almost magnetically to his mouth and lingered there for a second – long enough for Kylo to wonder to himself, _Does she know? Does she realize she’s staring?_

They were so close. One minor tilt of his head and he could kiss her. One tug from the current and their bodies might collide, and he would have no choice but to grab hold of her waist, to steady her. If only he could be so lucky.

She looked away as though scorned, having realized her mistake. Her fingers covered her lips in shame, as though he couldn’t see it. As though he couldn’t recognize the signs of someone who just surprised themselves. Or maybe she just knew him well enough to know that he would be polite and pretend he hadn’t noticed.

Regardless, seeing her hesitation and shock made his mind spring back into action. _That was awkward._ This _is awkward._ He’d never been the best at remedying these kinds of situations, but damned if he wasn’t going to keep trying, every time.

“It’s nice in here, huh?” he asked. His voice echoed back to them as it bounced off the rocky walls.

“Hm?” Rey turned, her thumbnail caught between her teeth. She quickly released it. “Oh, yeah. It’s lovely.”

“You alright?”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m just…blown away by all of this. How did you find it?”

“My parents found it long before I did. They used to bring me here as a kid. We’d have dinner by the fire, and sometimes they’d invite some family friends along so I could play with other kids,” Kylo explained sheepishly.

“Aw,” Rey smirked, “that’s cute.”

“Mm. We used to come in here and have tickle fights for dominance within the cave,” He chuckled at the faint memory.

“Tickle fights? What?” Rey laughed.

“You know. Tickle fights.”

Kylo reached out and danced his fingers along her sides. Instantly, she screamed and laughed and began to squirm, splashing water all about.

“AH! Stop! – Stop it!” She giggled uncontrollably.

“I thought you wanted me to show you what tickle fights are?!” Kylo joked, continuing to run his fingers up and down her sides and under her arms until she was nearly breathless from laughing.

“No! I – _stop!_ Oh my go-o-od, _Ben! Stop it!_ ”

Kylo stopped.

Her laughter quickly faded.

They looked at one another in shock for a moment. Rey had called Kylo many things, but she had never called him _that_ before.

“Oh…oh, Christ, Kylo, I’m so sorry,” Rey stammered, eyes wide. “I-I don’t know why – why I said that. It just kind of…came out.”

Kylo shook his head and worked his mouth, but no sound came out on his first try. So he cleared his throat and gave it another go.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled.

“Really…? I thought you hated that name.”

He shrugged. “Y’know, if you had called me that two years ago I might have gotten angry about it, but…the name I go by now doesn’t hold any better memories than the old one these days. I’m not – I mean, I’m different now, so I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t suit me anymore. But…I don’t mind it so much when I hear you say it.”

Rey smiled affectionately at him, with a light pink hue in her cheeks.

“For what it’s worth, I think it suits you just fine.” She said.

Kylo returned her smile and noticed the gooseflesh rising on her arms.

“Why don’t we swim back to the beach and smoke another joint while we warm up a bit? And dry our clothes, I guess.” Kylo suggested, plucking at his clingy, soaked shirt.

“I think that’s an incredible idea,” Rey agreed. “I’ll race you for the first puff!”

And they were off. They spent the rest of the time on the shore of the water, chatting and resting and finally, _actually_ , allowing themselves to enjoy the day. Kylo didn’t think once about the foreboding message his mother had left him to ponder. And as the sun began to get low, and the air grew a little cooler in its absence, Rey turned to Kylo from where they sat side-by-side on the beach.

“This was fun,” she said. “Thank you for having fun with me today.”

He smiled warmly. “You’re welcome. And hey, if the shit all hits the fan tomorrow, at least we had today.”

She nodded.

“Yes. At least we had today.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF, I NEEDED SOME CUTE FLIRTATION IN MY LIFE
> 
> 99% of the dialogue in this chapter was just the most random stream of consciousness that hit me, and I wrote everything that came to me and decided to keep most of it. so i apologize if you found it to be a little dialogue-heavy but...once i got going i couldn't bring myself to stop, lmao.
> 
> also, i uploaded the first chapter of a three-part smutty priest!kylo/rey ficlet, which you can find on my profile if you're interested in checking that out. the slow burn got to me, y'all. i had to get the sin out somehow.
> 
> thanks for all of your support! continue to share and leave your awesome comments - i love to read them! you can find me on tumblr @reylo-solo, and on twitter @reyloghosts if you wanna chat more :)


	13. these damn deep desires

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some explicit content in this chapter but it's probably not exactly what you're thinking...

Kylo’s house

12:19 A.M.

July 21st, 2010

 

_“Kylo, I – why didn’t you kiss me?”_

_“What?”_

_“Earlier today, in the waterfall. I wanted you to kiss me, but you didn’t.”_

_“You did—?”_

_“I do.”_

_“Rey…”_

_“I need you. I_ need _you. Please … Ben…”_

 _Her skin still held the warmth from the summer sun and as soon as he touched it with his hands, it brought him to life. He cupped her face between his broad palms and pulled her close, kissing her with all the passion he’d been withholding; all that desire and affection that he’d been keeping locked away inside himself. It poured out of him and before he knew what was happening he was so_ fucking _hard, and her hands were quickly dropping down his sides. Her fingers slipped past the waist of his swimming trunks._

“Oh, god…fuck, Rey…”

          _He rocked himself into her palm and it felt so soft. She ran her thumb over his head, encircling him in her warm grasp._

_She raised herself up on her tiptoes, her free hand sliding up and over his right shoulder. He could feel her breasts against him, her nipples stiff through the thin fabric of her swimming suit, which would be quite easy to rip into shreds, he thought. Her lips caught his earlobe for a brief second and tugged gently on it._

_“I want you to fuck me,” she whispered into his ear._

“Yes…I’ve wanted to for so long…”

          _“I know.”_

The steam from his shower water had filled his small bathroom from top to bottom. The water still poured out hot over his shoulders and back. Small rivulets of it ran down the slope of his spine and cascaded over the curve of his rear, before swirling down the length of his legs where it pooled slightly around his feet. Which reminded him, in some small, fragmented part of his mind, that he needed to clean the drain. It was all clogged with Rey’s hair.

          “Rey…” he panted her name quietly, not wanting her to hear from where she sat reading out on the couch.

          She wasn’t on the couch reading in his mind, though. In his mind, he had her bent over the kitchen table, and she was making incredible, breathy mewling sounds as he buried himself deep inside of her.

          His hand, mixed with the hot water, were certainly no replacements for what he could only imagine the real Rey to be like, but it was doing the trick for the time being. He’d been driving himself crazy with thoughts of her all day, and he could take it no more.

          _“Ben…oh, Ben, don’t stop…”_

          “Ahh…mmm…”

          His free hand slipped down the wet, white tile below his shower head an inch or two, fingers splayed out against the slick wall in a lazy brace. And for that brief moment in time, when his eyes were shut tight and his teeth bit down on his lower lip to stifle any noise, it had felt _good_. Mind-blowing, even.

          But the second he opened his eyes and looked dazedly down at himself, the shame rolled over him like a bitterly cold wave, pulling all of that pleasure and relaxation from his body as quickly as it had arrived.

          _She doesn’t want you. She will never want you. You are travelling down a dangerous and lonely path of one-sided desire and you are going to pay dearly for it._

          “Ugh.” He grumbled and furiously washed his hands in the quickly-cooling water.

          _What the fuck is wrong with me?_ He continued to berate himself as he turned the shower off. _Now I have to go out there and try to avoid any and all contact with her, because how the fuck can I look her in the eye when I just came to the thought of fucking her on my kitchen table? How can I eat anything there, with her, again? What a fucking mess…all over a stupid one-piece bathing suit she probably didn’t even think twice about wearing in front of me…_

          Ripping the shower curtain aside, he glared out at the foggy mirror hanging on the opposite wall. His reflection was merely a blurred collection of muted colours and uneven shapes. As he pulled his towel from the rod where it hung, he thought maybe it was better that way. He didn’t really feel much of a desire to look at himself on a good day, but especially not right now.

          He stepped out of the bathtub, body dripping water all over the small towel which served as his bathmat. Much of it landed on the old, ugly tile floor, though. He scrubbed viciously at his scalp with his own towel, and patted his face and neck dry. His thoughts were still swirling in his mind.

          He was actually a little reviled by his actions. What kind of a man was he? A girl wears a bathing suit around him, completely innocent, and he can’t resist touching himself afterwards to the thought of it? _Fucking sick fuck,_ he cursed at himself. _I’m just here to help her – to be her friend, while she needs me. There’s no need to complicate that. So what the fuck am I doing here?_

          That had been the first time he’d ever done _that_ to the thought of _her_ before. And with how dirty it made him feel afterward, he didn’t think he’d ever do it again. No matter what bathing suit she wore.

          The steam rolled out towards the ceiling in waves as he exited the bathroom. The ends of his hair still dripped water occasionally onto his shoulders, and he could feel each droplet cool as it ran down his chest or back. The hair raised on his arms; the air was much colder out in the rest of the house.

          “Hey!” Rey called to him from the living room, stopping him in his tracks. “How was your shower?”

          He couldn’t see her, but the sound of her voice made his guilty heart race. He swallowed a strange lump in his throat and replied, but made no move to poke his head around into the living room.

          “It was…fine,” he answered meekly.

          He started to retreat towards the safety of his room but once again she stopped him.

          “That’s good. I made some iced tea – it’s in a jug in the fridge if you want any.”

          “Great,” he called back, then, quieter, “thanks…”

          Quickly, he entered his bedroom and made sure the door made an audible sound when he closed it.

          He sat down hard on the end of his bed and put his face in his hands, sighing. The towel he had tied loosely around his waist came undone, but he didn’t care. He just ran his long fingers down his cheeks and groaned, staring up at his dark ceiling, inside of his dark room, which he just now realized was dark because he’d been too flustered to turn the damn light on when he came in.

          He hated this. All of it. His thoughts were like armies, advancing in on him from all sides, and he was helpless in the face of them all. He felt dirty, wrong, confused, and self-deprecated. And when he thought of what the next day was going to bring, it only added insurmountable dread onto that list.

          How in the hell was he going to survive, stuck in a car with Rey driving to Portland for three hours?

          He groaned, long and deep, and knotted his fingers into his hair, pulling on it to make himself feel any kind of pain at all.

          “You stupid motherfucker,” he grumbled to himself. _If you think with your dick around this girl one more goddamned time…_

          That was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. The weight of everything pressing in on him made his lungs constrict and his palms feel itchy. He ran his towel through his wet hair one more time before tossing it onto his bedroom floor and walking over to his dresser. From there, he clothed himself in a light, black sweater and a pair of old jeans before running a brush quickly through his hair.

          He took a deep breath before he swiftly exited his room, keeping his eyes downcast so as not to catch her alluring hazel gaze. He crossed straight to the front door, where he threw on his leather jacket and grabbed the keys to his bike.

          “Where are you going?” Rey piped up from the couch, even going to the trouble of putting her book down. “It’s getting late.”

          “I’ve just got something I need to do,” he replied absently. Her simple acknowledgement of him left a sharp pang in his chest. “Lock the door behind me and don’t wait up. I’ll be back soon.”

          “Kylo—”

          But he didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. The front door closed behind him before his name had completely left her mouth.

          Half the town was asleep. Kylo roared past darkened houses on his bike, running stop signs because no one else was out and about at this time of night.

          The air was still warm at night in the midst of summer. It crawled in through his jacket sleeves and dried those tips of his hair that stuck out the back of his helmet. The moon was high and bright, though not completely full. He hadn’t gone for a nighttime ride in quite a while; he’d forgotten how peaceful and beautiful it was. However, he was having troubles focusing on the beauty that night.

          He took the highway out of town on the west side, following the serpentine curves through the forest of pine trees, which looked like tall, spiky black shadows against the night sky.

          Just before he could hit the ‘You Are Now Leaving Fairview’ sign, he slowed down and took a right down a roughly-paved, single-lane road, which went over a ridge and ended in a tall, white gate, the doors of which were permanently open.

          Kylo rolled past them and followed a new road which was much better cared for. He swung around a wide curve on his left and down a small hill before pumping the breaks and turning the ignition off.

          The silence in the Fairview Cemetery was, as always, deafening.

          He rested his helmet on a handlebar and started to walk across the lawn, mindful of any final resting places which may linger beneath his feet.

          He hadn’t been here in a very long time. He tried to avoid coming here anymore. There were simply too many people he had known buried here. He’d never been overly fond of cemeteries to begin with. All that death and loss and pain…it was almost tangible to him. Like an energy that lingered permanently in the air and made his skin crawl ever so slightly.

          No, he hadn’t been here in a long time, but his feet still knew the way. As soon as those perfect rows of even, uniform white headstones appeared in the near distance, he felt that familiar sensation in his gut, telling him to stop and turn back. But he couldn’t listen to it this time. He needed to push forward. He just needed to talk to him.

          The veteran’s plot at the cemetery seemed to stretch on for miles. It ended at the tree line but it just felt to Kylo like if he kept walking into those trees, he’d see more and more of those marble headstones, reflecting brilliant white from the light of the moon. They looked like polished bone; or better yet, eerie skulls, watching him as he walked, alone and vulnerable, through their ranks. He shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets and kept his eyes downcast, partially as a sign of respect and partially because he felt like he shouldn’t look.

          He’d felt like that before, though – like he shouldn’t look at them. Like his eyes physically refused to linger on any one headstone in particular, as though its namesake would stare back in judgement and revulsion.

          At the 11th row, he turned right. He made sure to step very lightly now. So many of the graves were decorated with fake flowers, and all had small American flags planted before them. When he got to the one he’d been looking for, he found a fresh bouquet of carnations resting before it. His mother had been here recently too, it looked like. He wasn’t sure if that fact made him feel better or worse.

          He stood before the grave in silence, unmoving, for a very long time. He read its inscription over and over again until his eyes stopped roaming over it and the words simply repeated, echoing, in his head:

          _Han Solo_

_Maj._

_US Air Force_

_Vietnam_

_APR 16 1951_

_SEP 22 1997_

_Beloved Husband, Father, & Friend_

          Suddenly he sniffed, and wiped his nose on his jacket sleeve. The guilt of not visiting his father’s grave sooner was there, knocking at his door, but he didn’t have the energy to let it in. Instead he kneeled, and his eye caught something shiny poking out of the grass, behind the carnations.

          With unsteady fingers he grabbed the object, and found it to be surprisingly weighty and cool to the touch. He knew what it was instantly, but he could hardly believe it was still there after all those years.

          He brought it closer to his face and examined it. A palm-sized, tin motorcycle toy, with wheels that spun, blue paint which had all but completely peeled away, and an entire childhood’s worth of memories attached to it.

          Kylo moved the object around in his hand, and made the front wheel spin with a quick nudge from his index finger. There was some rust gathering upon the toy now, and so the wheel didn’t spin for very long. But he remembered a time when it would go and go and go, and he’d imagine going with it.

          His father had given him that toy when Kylo had been just a baby. It had been Han’s once upon a time, and he had kept it for years just so he could give it to his child someday. Leia had told Kylo that the day she and Han learned they were having a boy, he had come home and set to work repainting the little toy. It had been the first real addition to his nursery, even before the crib.

          He’d played with it constantly as a kid. That bike had driven through sand, water, and mud, and over more than a few unsuspecting toes in its time. It was the toy which had made Kylo realize he wanted to learn to ride a bike – that toy, plus the fact that his dad rode one.

          Kylo had idolized his father. He had wanted to be just like Han, at one time in his life. But that desire had faded over time. The vision became clouded with repression. Eventually, it seemed, they both just forgot how to talk to one another. They forgot how to be father and son.

          So when Han died, and Kylo’s whole world went to shit, he hadn’t attended the funeral. Instead, while everyone was attending the service, he broke into his parents’ house, and found the motorcycle toy collecting dust on a shelf in his old bedroom. He had taken it and went to leave, but not before he cast one last look at his father’s favourite brown leather jacket, which still hung on the hooks by the front door. Han Solo would never wear that jacket again. And there’d just been something about it that had chilled Kylo straight to his core. He’d wanted to reach out and touch it, just to feel that soft, worn leather one last time, but he’d been too scared of it. Too scared that it would still smell like him. Too scared that he’d still find a few mints in the left pocket, or a half-empty pack of Lucky’s in the secret inside pocket, where Han thought Leia wouldn’t find out about them.

          It was like the jacket had been alive with all these memories; all these tiny, insignificant things that carried such an extreme weight in Kylo’s heart. And he couldn’t take it one second longer.

          He’d gone to the cemetery long after everyone else had left, when the sun was beginning to set in the autumn sky. There, he’d found the fresh patch of earth, in stark contrast before the pale white marble of the headstone. He had read the inscription over and over again then, too; until the words didn’t even seem like words in his mind. He had cried. He had apologized profusely for everything he had done and not done. And he had left the motorcycle toy propped up against the headstone, before he had left without looking back once.

          And now he found himself here again, so many years later with the motorcycle toy in hand, before his father’s grave. And he felt just as conflicted and confused now as he had then. His mind was still troubled with all these thoughts that wouldn’t leave him, but they were of a different sort now.

          “Hi, Dad,” He whispered, and yet his voice still seemed incredibly loud in the still of the night. “I know it’s been a while.”

          “I don’t have time to fill you in on everything that’s happened because, well, it’s just a lot to unpack, but…I can tell you that things are changing. I just can’t say if it’ll be for the best or for the worst.”

          The only response was the low breeze crawling its way through the tree branches, but it ruffled his hair just a little and made him relax some.

          “I’m – well, how do I…? See, there’s this _girl_.”

          He began to tell the tale of Rey and didn’t stop until he spilled every last detail known to him, apart from his moment in the shower. When he was done, he found himself to be oddly breathless, and he hunched forwards on his knees, as though all his strength had been taken from him. Of course no reply came to him, and he hadn’t been foolish enough to expect one, yet he felt strangely comforted after having laid himself bare to seemingly no one. So maybe, just maybe, someone had been listening after all.

          “And now I…I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he finished quietly. “I don’t know how this is going to end but I’m positive it won’t be good. I just have this feeling in my gut that I’m going to lose her, and I don’t know if it’s metaphorical or if it’s – if it’s real. Is she going to get killed? Or is she just going to wind up hating me, or leaving me to die? Why do I even care if she wants to stay with me? I just fucking hate that I don’t know the answers to these stupid questions I keep asking myself. And it’s not like I can ask anyone else, so. I’m asking a dead guy.”

          He was silent for a long while. He shut his eyes for a minute and just breathed. The air was a little cooler now. It was late. Probably much later than he thought it was. In the back of his mind he figured he should get back home, even if the possibility of Rey still being awake unsettled him. He didn’t have much else to say, anyway.

          “I really could use some of your advice right now, Dad,” he confessed, slowly rising onto his feet. “I wish you were here to give it. I know you always liked doing that, whether it was asked for or not.”

          He kissed the tips of his fingers and then delicately touched them to the rounded top of the headstone.

          “See ya around,” he said.

          He could almost hear his father’s rough, familiar voice answering in his ear: _See ya around, kid._

 

***

 

          _Kylo’s fingertips trailed the cool, refreshing water over her shoulder, and Rey was surprised it didn’t sizzle for how hot her skin felt. Those warm brown eyes of his were fixated on a lock of her hair which had fallen over her left eye, and his fingers pushed it away, leaving dew drops of water upon her temple, which ran down over her cheekbone like stray tears._

_There was no sound but the water lapping at the rock walls of the small cave, and the ever-present soothing hum of the waterfall just outside. There was nothing but the two of them, their bodies nearly touching below the water, in this little sanctuary away from the rest of the world._

_Rey looked up at him, mystified by the lines of light reflected from the water which danced across his handsome face. They somehow made him look even more beautiful and alluring; as if he wasn’t of this earth at all. She wanted to reach out and touch him, too; to be touched by him, over and over again until her skin was flush with the heat of him. So badly did she want this that she pushed herself closer to him, ran her long fingers through his hair, and pressed her eager mouth to his._

_The rock wall was shockingly cool against her back at first, but she settled into it after a minute. She was far too preoccupied to lend much attention to the temperature difference._

_Kylo’s hands were firm and hypnotic as they traversed her body, showing their appreciation for every curve and angle. She held him closer and wrapped her legs around his waist until she could feel him there, pressing against her,_ wanting _her. She moaned softly against his lips._

_“Ben…”_

_His hand slid over her belly and down between their bodies, to cup her there, between her legs, where his fingers teased her through the fabric of her swimsuit before finally,_ finally _, pushing it aside…_

          Rey awoke on the couch with a sudden gasp, sitting up so fast her vision blurred and she had to steady herself. The entire house was filled with sunlight and she could just barely squint against its blinding whiteness at first. Her heart was pounding so hard against her ribs she thought it may just knock one loose. Sweat coated her entire body, and a strangely warm, weighty sensation filled the pit of her belly – a feeling she hadn’t experienced in a very long time. One of her hands fluttered there, fingertips pressing below her navel as though that would make it go away.

          _Oh no,_ she thought, _this is—_

But she was interrupted by the sound of a book bag packed full hitting the tile in the entryway with a hard _thwump._

          She spun around on the couch, eyes wide in alarm, as though she had just been caught doing something bad. Kylo entered the space between the living room and the kitchen, with a cigarette tucked in behind his right ear and a Bic lighter in his hand. Her mouth went drier than a desert. She’d never realized before just how effortlessly _good_ he could look in a simple black shirt and jeans. It was almost criminal. She had to bite her tongue hard to stop thinking about it, and even then it lingered in the back of her mind like a tempting secret.

          “Well good morning, sunshine,” he said when those dark eyes of his landed upon her shocked form, still seated on the couch. “Come on, get dressed. We’ve got a long three hour ride to Portland.”

          _Oh…_ Dread filled her from top to bottom. _Three hours, in a car, alone, with him. And my own subconscious just sabotaged me._

_This should be nightmarish._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE BEEN HEARING THE COMMENTS THE ENTIRE TIME I WAS WRITING THIS CHAPTER SO PLEASE, LET ME HAVE IT
> 
> tumblr: reylo-solo  
> twitter: reyloghosts


	14. portland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks to Meg (Just Another Sailor Scout) for beta'ing this beast!

 

 

The ride so far had been long and silent, painfully so on both accounts.

Bob Dylan and Johnny Cash crooning through his car stereo about their girl from the North Country filled the void a little, but not enough to mask the awkwardness of a conversation waiting to happen.

They had only been on the road for a little over one hour, out of three total (though Kylo was trying quite passionately to shave off a few precious seconds with a heavier foot). It didn’t feel like Portland, and their secretive meeting with ex-gang affiliates, was getting any closer. And although they both displayed some truly impressive poker faces throughout the whole ordeal, it had not been without suffering.

For a little over an hour, Kylo felt like his seatbelt was choking him. But he was careful not to fiddle with it too much, so as to avoid rousing her suspicion.

 _She doesn’t know what I did in the shower yesterday. How could she?_ He said to himself, repeatedly. _No, I’m fine. There’s nothing worrying me. This is fine._

_But, then...why is she acting weird, too?_

Rey would never stand for a silence lasting so long. She wouldn’t allow it, normally. So what was it about this one that was so enjoyable?

_Oh, fuck. Does she know?_

When she finally, _finally_ , broke the silence, it shocked him a little bit. He straightened in his seat instantly and tried to ignore the gooseflesh racing up his arms.

“Where did you go last night that was so important?” She queried, her voice just half an octave higher than normal. “If you don’t mind me asking, I mean.”

She didn’t look at him as she spoke. Her slight neck was bent forward in a way that made her hair fall across her profile like a shiny chestnut curtain. Her fingers twisted themselves in and out of knots within her narrow lap.

Kylo paused, took a deep breath. _Okay. I can answer that._

“To the cemetery,” he replied quietly, “to visit my Dad’s grave.”

She raised her head then, turning to look at him. The surprise was blatant upon her face, but then again, so were the majority of her emotions — most of the time.

“Oh,” she said, punctuating the sentiment with a heavy pause. “I, uh — is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I mean, I guess,” Kylo shrugged. “All things considered, you know.”

“Why did you—I mean, what changed?”

“I don’t know. I just needed somebody to talk to. And I don’t really have anyone else, who I feel like I can—I mean. You know.”

“I’m guessing, what you’re trying to say is, you needed to talk about me. That’s why you couldn’t just talk to _me_.”

He took his eyes off the road ahead to meet her steady, searching gaze. But if it was apprehension or fear she was looking for in him, her quest would come up empty. He could be honest about that much, at least.

“Yeah, kind of,” he replied bluntly. “I needed to talk about you, and everything that’s currently unfolding around us. But it wasn’t in bad taste.”

She relaxed a little, her shoulders slackening. She sat back in her seat.

“Okay.”

“I guess I just needed some assurance, or...comfort, maybe. I don’t know why my first instinct was to go to a dead person for that, but, that’s where I found myself going.”

“He was your father,” she said softly. “It makes sense why you’d turn to his memory in search of guidance. I hope you’re not ashamed about that.”

“No. I’m not. If I’m ashamed it’s only because it took me so long to go back there.”

Rey didn’t have anything to say to that. She simply gave him a quick, reassuring smile, and turned her attentions out her passenger window.

“Where did you think I’d gone?” Kylo asked after a long moment. He was curious.

She looked back at him slowly, allowing her stare to get lost out the front window, following the approaching horizon.

She shrugged.

“I wasn’t sure. I thought maybe to a g—to somebody’s house. Or to Lloyd’s. You have a tendency to just _go_ without really going anywhere sometimes. Like you want to avoid me, or something else.”

She wasn’t wrong. But it definitely had a way of making him feel a biting pit of guilt in his stomach. He gulped.

“Yeah. I guess I just...I need some time to think when big things are happening.”

“Like the big thing we’re about to do right now?” She queried, already knowing the answer but needing to hear him say it, for some infuriating reason.

“...Yes, like that.”

“I see,” she replied. “I’m afraid, too. If it makes you feel any better.”

“I’m not—” He stopped himself from reacting defensively, for perhaps the first time in his adult career, and swallowed the urge to protect himself. But neither could he agree, without looking his self-doubt in its ugly eyes – a sight he couldn’t bear just yet. So he simply let it go unaddressed, and she could interpret that however she wanted to.

“Do you think it might not go well?” He asked, easing the tension off himself.

“I don’t know how it will go,” she sighed. “Let’s just hope for the best.”

 

***

 

The room which Rey had rented at Smokey’s Hookah Bar felt cramped and incredibly pressurized with tense energy. Everyone was sat on plush, colourful couches and broad corduroy poufs, looking quite uncomfortable. Needless to say, no one had even made a move to touch the tall, three-hosed golden hookah which acted as a centrepiece for the whole affair.

As Rey stood to address everyone, the room became void of all mutterings. All eyes were on her, all of them apprehensive. Kylo sat defensively behind her, like a threatening shadow, watching for any sign of trouble.

          He felt incredibly out of place. It was mostly ex-Resistance members who had shown up. He judged that a few knew of him, for they kept throwing him furtive yet unmistakably icy stares between their whispers. For Rey’s sake, he sat there and pretended not to notice. The single ex-Order member in attendance was not much of a stranger to Kylo, but he wouldn’t say he knew her that well. He only knew her as Phasma, but he doubted that was her full name. It’s not as though she would ever tell it to him. If his memory served, she didn’t care much for him.

Rey cleared her throat and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She was nervous; she wasn’t trying to hide that. But she was brave, and stubborn, and no amount of fear or apprehension would get in her way.

“Hello, everyone,” she said, her voice trembling only slightly. She straightened her spine, cleared her throat, and tried again.

“Thank you for answering my call to arms. I know it was out of the blue, and I’m sure many of you had hoped to be rid of Fairview completely. I do apologize for forcing you to step into your past on such short notice.”

Jyn Erso, now much older than Kylo remembered her, shared a loaded look with her husband. Kylo watched as Cassian Andor put a gentle hand atop her knee.

Rey introduced herself, and explained her connection to the Resistance, and to the First Order. She briefly overviewed her situation — _their_ situation, Kylo reminded himself — and it seemed like the pressure in the room was easing.

“The Resistance and the Order _collaborated_ to kill my parents, and they were successful,” Rey said in closing. “The Resistance orphaned me, and then pretended to care for me, to be sympathetic of me, only so they could soften my mind and mould it to their liking. Neither one of these so-called clubs is better than the other; they are equally corrupt. Both organizations have taken things from us in the past and will continue to do so if we don’t put an end to it. I really do hope you’ll consider joining us. We can’t hope to do it alone.”

Kylo could see it then. It passed over the room like a cloud in front of the Sun; Rey’s speech had made this _real_ for everyone. She was more relatable to them now. She was more than just a strange face. She had fought the same monsters.

But then Kaydel Ko Connix pointed a finger at Kylo, still seated behind Rey, and everyone’s hackles raised once more.

“Who’s your bodyguard?” She asked, her voice laden with unmasked suspicion. She wore her hair in the same style as his mother used to wear it long before he was even born – a firmly-secured bun on either side of her head – and it filled Kylo with contempt.

Rey squared her shoulders and opened her mouth to speak, but another one of their guests beat her to it.

“That’s Kylo Ren, isn’t it? I’d recognize that scarred face anywhere.”

Kylo looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his gaze landing on an incredibly tall, pale woman with short blonde hair that had been shaved up the sides, and piercing blue eyes. Kylo narrowed his eyes at her, and she stared unflinchingly back at him.

If the whole place was going to blow, it would have gone at that very moment.

“What’s he doing here?” Paige Tico, a feisty girl with fire in her soul, shot him a dirty look. “I heard he’s still a spy for the Order!”

Kylo laughed at that, and in doing so caught the attention of the entire room. He stood and swiped his hand across his mouth, coaxing the smirk off his face.

“I’m not a spy for the Order, but it’s hilarious that you think that,” he said bluntly.

“What reason have you given for us to think otherwise?” Rose, a much more docile version of her sister Paige, grumbled at him.

“He saved my life, for starters,” Rey answered for Kylo. “More than once, too.”

Everyone in the room looked from her to Kylo and back again, the astonishment all too clear upon their faces. Rey met their stares unflinchingly.

“I fucked up. That’s how this whole thing started. I killed a First Order mule, and if Kylo hadn’t come along I don’t know what might have happened to me,” she said clearly. “He gave me a place to crash and he offered to help me, even after finding out who I was and what side I came from.

“So if any of you still want to uphold your petty judgements long after you’ve all been freed of that awful town, well, that’s your misery. But you can leave right now if you don’t think you’re capable of abandoning that way of thinking.”

The room fell silent. People shared looks, but no one made a move towards the door.

“Does anyone else have a problem?” Rey asked.

“No.” Jyn spoke up then, and cast her gaze about the room, looking right into everyone’s eyes. “First Order or not, he is the son of Leia and Han. We have to take that into account, do we not? Cassian and I knew him as a young boy, although you went by a different name back then.”

Kylo’s face darkened but he remained silent.

“I don’t know, but I don’t see a spy,” Jyn continued. “I see a man who is tired of fighting.”

Nobody could look directly at him in that moment. They had all averted their eyes upon mention of his parents.

“It’s really because of Leia that we’re all here right now,” Rey explained, redirecting the conversation as best she could. “She kept all your contact information. She kept you all close because she _knew_ this day would come. And she told me you’d all be willing to fight when it did. So, I’m hoping you won’t prove her wrong.”

Cassian sighed and nodded his head sagely. “Prove her wrong, no. But I’m afraid Jyn and I are long past our fighting days, at least physically,”

Jyn smiled but the corners of her mouth were sad.

“We can maybe help in other ways, though,” he offered, dark eyes going foggy in deep thought. “We’ll reach out to our contacts from the old days; gather as much useful information and details as we can – whatever you need.”

“I’m in,” Kaydel spoke up, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “That town took almost everything from me. If it’s revenge you want, I’m there.”

“It started out as revenge, but that’s not the case anymore,” Kylo said darkly. “Now it’s war.”

Kaydel grinned, as did the blonde woman seated beside her.

“All the better. Phasma, at your service.”

Rey smiled at them both. “Thank you.”

Kylo looked at the Tico sisters, who had their heads nearly pressed together, communicating quietly. He could see the uncertainty on the younger sister’s brow, creasing it in the middle. But the older one was fierce; a leader. She sensed Kylo’s eyes upon her and met his stare coolly.

“And you two?” Kylo asked. “What’s your stance? I get the feeling this is a two-for-one deal.”

“We’ll help,” Paige answered firmly. “And we might be able to find a few more people to join the cause, too.”

“Good. Do it,” Kylo said. “It’s time to put an end to this, once and for all. For too long Fairview has had a festering wound. At this point, amputation of the limbs are the only way to save the body.”

“How poetic,” Phasma quipped, giving Ren a queer stare. “So, when does this all go down? What’s the plan?”

“Uh…” Rey fumbled over her words for a moment, suddenly embarrassed. “We don’t really have a clear plan laid out yet — we were kind of hoping to brainstorm with all of you.”

Kylo could see the looks of uncertainty pass through the group.

“This is a big operation. If we fuck it up, we’re putting innocent people at risk. We only want to finish off the big players here. This isn’t a free-for-all; we need to be careful about how we go about it,” he explained sternly.

“Oh, so you’re saying we shouldn’t just burn down their clubhouses and let them massacre one another?” Phasma raised her eyebrows. She had a mocking tone to her voice, no matter what she seemed to say, and Kylo didn’t like it one bit.

“If you _really_ think that would work, then go ahead; be my fucking guest,” he snarled. “But you can’t burn out a virus like this one. You give it fire and it will spread.”

Rey wiggled nervously, shifting from one foot to the other, poking at her already raw cuticles with her fingernails.

“Ben — _Kylo_ is right,” Cassian spoke up, diffusing the situation with his clear, accented voice. “These two gangs, they’re always on-edge; always waiting for the smallest, most insignificant reason to pounce on one another. And while there’s the _smallest_ chance they’d simply kill each other off in their nonsensical rage, it could never be without consequences for us.”

“I think I have to agree,” Rose spoke up. She was still clearly apprehensive about the whole thing, but easing into it nonetheless. “I mean, didn’t someone try to burn it all down before? The night Old Snoke got shot in that gang fight by the river, I thought it all started because fires broke out at each clubhouse, like someone tried to burn them down.”

“It wasn’t fires; they were bombs,” Jyn responded icily. “Someone had planted them in fake kegs of beer and had a keg delivered to each clubhouse around the same time. They made it look like the Resistance attacked the Order and vice versa.”

“Oh, well, still…” Rose muttered.

“Yes, I remember that,” Phasma said slowly, turning those cold, reproachful eyes back to Ren in judgement. “And I remember hearing afterward that _you_ had fired the fatal shot on your own master.”

Kylo bristled instantly and took a threatening step towards Phasma, who stood to her full, impressive height. She nearly dwarfed Kylo, who stood a cool six-foot-three. Everyone else backed up or spoke up, demanding peace.

“Did you do it, _dog_?” Phasma spat. “Did you go feral?”

“If I did, are you sure you want to be testing me right now?” Kylo growled.

“ _Stop it!_ He didn’t kill Snoke!” Rey yelled in a panic, forcing everyone to redirect their attentions back to her.

She stood with her brown eyes wide and her lips taught with worry. Kylo had seen her nervous before. He’d even seen her scared, on rare occasion. This wasn’t either of those; this was something else. She looked _haunted_.

“Yeah? And how do you know?” Paige Tico narrowed her tigress eyes ever so slightly.

Rey looked to Kylo for a split second, and in that instant he remembered there were still secrets she had yet to share with him; secrets he doubted he’d ever be privy to. Just how deep did those secrets run?

“I — Because he told me he didn’t,” she said, finally squaring her shoulders and regaining her confidence. Something had come over her, and Kylo was reminded of a young child, hiding under her blankets from the monster under her own bed.

“I believe him. I can’t make any of you believe him. I know that. All I can do is insist that you consider the fact that he has been ostracized, villainized, and relentlessly preyed upon since that night, and yet he never left Fairview.”

She cast fiery eyes over to him, momentarily stunning him like a deer caught in headlights.

“Are you going to tell them why you stayed? Or am I?” She demanded.

Kylo opened his mouth but was not able to produce any sort of sound. He shook his head uselessly, trying and failing to communicate with her through only a look. _What the fuck are you trying to do?!_

She turned her cheek to him; rebuking him for his decision to stay silent. She looked sternly out at the small group which had gathered, eyes as cold and unforgiving as steel, with a fire raging madly in the midst of it all.

“He stayed to _protect_ the innocent people,” she said. “And above all, he stayed to make sure nothing happened to his mother.”

More than one person’s gaze dropped to the floor, whether in shame or shock Kylo couldn’t quite tell. It was like the mere mention of Leia’s presence had admonished everyone in an instant. He had always found it to be just the slightest bit strange, the way people in these circles revered his mother like she was a saint of some kind. He knew how incredible she was, of course, but he also knew she likes half a glass of red wine before bed and can’t watch veterinary shows because they make her cry uncontrollably. It was odd ground to be standing on.

“Think whatever you want, but I really don’t believe that a true, cold-hearted killer would stay in the middle of a town that broke him just to watch over his mother. Not one that’s gone beyond the light, anyway.”

Kylo had had about enough of that. He cleared his throat loudly and glowered at the room.

“Bottom line is, I couldn’t care less if all of you trust me or not. It makes no difference. The Order and the Resistance are out there, killing and pushing drugs, as we speak. That problem isn’t going anyway until we do something about it. So you can love me or leave me; take your pick. All I care about is whether or not _you_ care enough to fight back.”

His voice, dark and deep and commanding, punctuated a sharp end to the conversation. No one had anything else to say, or if they did, no one wanted to speak.

The silence lingered for a slow moment, punctuated by sharp bursts of anxiety and adrenaline that were like little firecrackers in everyone’s ears. Everyone wanted it to end, but no one quite knew how to break it at first.

Finally, much to the surprise of everyone, Rose Tico’s soft voice cut through the stinging vibration of terse quiet.

“Um, I think I have an idea,” she said. “Or, part of one, anyway.”

Kylo raised his eyebrows and looked straight at the girl. She was small, with a round, friendly face and jet black hair that stuck out at odd angles — the pieces that weren’t pulled back into a short, blunt ponytail, anyway. She didn’t _look_ like a brawler. But Kylo was no fool.

It’s always the innocent-looking ones you need to watch out for.

“Well,” he said, taking a seat, “let’s hear it.”

Rose’s cheeks flushed with colour as everyone turned their attentions to her. This was not someone who was used to having the spotlight. She shifted in her seat. Ren expected her to keep her gaze downcast, bashful. But again the young girl shocked him by looking him, and everyone else, in the eye.

“Okay, well, I agree that we can use their animosity for each other to our advantage, but I do think we need to be very careful, and that may mean playing a longer sort of con,” Rose explained slowly. “But I think our best bet to get that ball of suspicion rolling is to attack their assets first.”

Kylo smirked. “The drugs, you mean?”

She shrugged. “Drugs, money laundering, any of their nefarious dealings. Whatever we can interfere with, without risking exposure.”

“Sure, that’s easy enough to deduce,” Phasma said critically. “But how will we go about it?”

“Isn’t that obvious? We cut off their supply,” Paige spoke up. “If we can figure out who is bringing the drugs into Fairview, we can use them to send a message.”

“The only way you’ll make that message clear enough is to kill,” Kylo said. “Chances are anyone you find bringing drugs in is just a mule; a smoke screen, meant to distract from the real puppeteer if something goes wrong. Maybe they’ll break easy and give up the supplier, maybe not. And if not…”

An eerie, charged silence swept through the room, chilling everyone instantly. But no one objected, because it was only the truth. Yet Kylo had a significant feeling, as he cast his stern gaze about the room, that he would be the one to deliver any fatal blows. He’d done it before. But tapping into that shadowed part of himself, the part that was trained to kill, was easier said than done nowadays. It used to be as simple as turning off a light switch or slipping on a coat. But now, it felt as daunting as summoning a demon from the netherworld.

But he would do it regardless, for the greater good. For her.

“And even if we get to the supplier, what then?” Kaydel said sceptically. “We just ask them nicely to please stop dealing in Fairview?”

“No. We use brute force,” Rey’s voice was cold as ice and unforgiving as stone. “We kill if we need to. For all they’ve done to us, they deserve no mercy.”

Kylo gave Rey a sideways look. Her words, or perhaps just the way she had spoken them, chilled him just a little. This was not the first time he had forgotten the amount of repressed rage which had built up inside of her, nor would it be the last.

“So how do we even find a mule to get the ball rolling?” Jyn inquired.

“Ahem, that brings me back to my part of a plan,” Rose said as she struggled to withhold a sly smile. “I may have insider information on that front which could be highly beneficial to us.”

Kylo grinned roguishly at the girl.

“I’m starting to like this one. What do you got?”

Rose had gotten intel from her old roommate, who had, at one time, been deep into the drug rings in Fairview. She had the names of two First Order mules and popular drop-off tactics and meetup locations. The term ‘highly beneficial’ was a massive understatement for the knowledge Rose had saved away in her brilliant brain.

Kylo had seen Rey’s entire face light up with hope as she listened to Rose talk. Whatever Rey had been expecting to happen at this meetup, it certainly had not been this.

“That’s where we’ll start,” Rey said once Rose had finished. “I’ll ask around and see what I can learn about these mules. Then we’ll pick our first target.”

“And _then_ you’ll give each and every one of us a call, _before_ you do anything stupid,” Phasma articulated. “Correct?”

Rey smiled stiffly. It barely touched her eyes. “Yes. Of course.” Sudden animosity had chilled her voice significantly.

Phasma turned her sharp stare to Kylo and grumbled, “See to it, Ren.”

Kylo didn’t dare respond to that. He could feel Rey bristling beside him.

After that, people began to clear out. Most of them murmured brief messages of hope and support to Rey or Kylo before departing. All in all, everyone who had shown up to the meeting was prepared to help. This was a good sign. Kylo felt relieved, and quite surprised, after expecting the worst.

Once it was just the two of them left, Kylo flopped down into one of the two couches, quickly perused the selection of shisha on the low coffee table, and settled on a root beer flavour. He prepared the bowl very efficiently, using one of the preheated coal discs supplied over a small grill built into the coffee table. Rey watched him do all this with a dreamy smile on her face; completely blissed-out after the way their meeting had gone.

After Kylo had taken his first pull off the hookah, and exhaled the thick, white cloud of smoke, she sat down beside him.

“Have you been waiting to do that this whole time?” She asked coyly, picking up one of the other hoses and raising the gold mouthpiece to her lips.

“Not the whole time,” he mumbled. “Just since Phasma brought up Snoke.”

“Mm…” she hummed, then took a deep pull on the mouthpiece. The smoke trailed upwards in one big, lazy cloud. “Well I can promise you, you don’t ever have to talk about him around me, and I won’t ask.”

He looked at her quizzically for a second and was tempted to ask why. But then, if he did that, she would inevitably ask what he meant, and it would be too hard for him to explain. So he just nodded and kept his mouth shut instead.

They weren’t in there long before there was a knock at the door. Kylo expected it to be an employee telling them their time was up. But it was Rose who peeked her head in around the door.

“Sorry — am I interrupting?” She asked.

“Rose! No, no, come in,” Rey said excitedly. “What’s up? Did you leave something behind?”

Rose walked into the room and shut the door behind her. She looked a little more bashful now, but still that spark of determination burned in her black eyes.

“Uh, no, not exactly,” she replied, seating herself on the couch opposite the two of them. “I, uh, have some more information for you that I didn’t want to say in front of, er, everyone else.”

“What is it?” Rey inquired eagerly, leaning forward with elbows on her knees.

“My roommate also told me there’s a major deal going down _this weekend_ ,” Rose divulged, eyes going wide with the implication of her words. “It’s going down in the woods, down some back trail called Deadman’s Walk.”

Kylo winced, causing both women to look at him in puzzlement.

“It’s, uh, not a good trail to be on,” was all he said.

“No...I don’t suppose it would be,” Rey murmured distractedly. Then, she spoke to Rose. “What kind of drugs? Do you know?”

Rose swallowed. A ghost passed over her face like a shadow.

“My roommate seems to think that, um, well she _heard_ that it’s going to be a massive shipment of cocaine and fentanyl, maybe some pills, too.”

Rey became a statue; completely still, eerily so, with an unreadable expression on her face that could be threatening either laughter or utter destruction. Rose ogled her strangely, clearly trying to puzzle out what she could be thinking. Kylo, for his part, stiffened, and braced for the worst.

But when Rey unthawed, she was disturbingly calm.

“I see,” she said quietly. “Can you text me everything you know?”

“Oh! Of course, I’ll do it right away,” Rose said, scrambling for her phone in her bag. “What’s your number?”

As the girls exchanged information, Kylo watched Rose closely. She was certainly a conspirator. But was she conspiring against them? In spite of himself he wanted to believe she wasn’t, but he needed to be certain. Rey was excitable, and would be even more so now that she knew about this weekend deal. He’d hate for her to get her spirit broken again over more false hopes.

“Why didn’t you want to tell us this in front of everyone?” Kylo asked, startling the two women.

Rose quickly changed her expression to that of calm composure, though it wasn’t a mask. Kylo knew a well-crafted mask when he saw one, and this was nothing of the sort.

“Well, I got the impression that you’re of the eager type,” Rose explained confidently, not flinching in the face of Kylo’s darkened stare, although she spoke only to Rey. “And when Phasma made it clear that she didn’t think you should act right away, I could see that bothered you.”

Rey’s jaw muscles tightened.

“So I thought I’d leave her—and everyone else—out of the loop,” She shrugged, looking to him, vulnerable and daring at the same time. “If you think you’ll want back up I can get you some. I’m on _your_ side.”

Kylo nodded slowly, acknowledging her obvious ability to read rooms.

“We know that,” Rey said quickly, throwing Ren a side-glare. “Thank you, Rose. Truly. This means the world to me.”

“Of course,” Rose smiled warmly at her. “You deserve to know peace just as much as anybody else does.”

Rey’s lips trembled as she pulled them into a smile, and her eyes stung at the tenderness of Rose’s words. But if she was about to cry, she hid it well.

“I should get going; Paige is waiting for me. I’ll let you two get back to your, uh, hookah,” Rose gestured awkwardly at the thing. “You guys make a _very_ cute couple, by the way.”

Ren coughed and made a low noise in his throat, quickly deviating himself away from that conversation by taking a slow, deliberate pull off the hookah.

“Oh, we’re—we’re not dating,” Rey stammered. Her cheeks had quickly gone a deep shade of pink. “Just friends.”

“Oh!” Rose exclaimed. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, with no sound coming out. She appeared to be very puzzled by this, and embarrassed.

“Well, then. My apologies, and I’m going to leave now before I can find a way to squeeze my other foot into my mouth. Nice meeting you!”

She left quickly after that, and Rey and Kylo sat in silence for a beat before Rey bounced her shoulders and looked at Rose’s contact information in her phone with a contented smile.

“Well this is great!” She exclaimed, although her voice came out sounding stiffer than usual. “Never in my wildest dreams did I see us getting an opportunity this good.”

Kylo rolled his eyes lazily over to her, eyebrows raised.

“So does this mean you don’t want to talk about the awkward moment that just happened?” He asked.

“No, I don’t want to talk about it; what’s there to talk about?” She replied a little too quickly for her answer to be totally believable, and she knew it, too. “Do _you_ want to talk about it?”

“Nope, I’m good.”

“Good. Let’s finish smoking this and get some food so we can go home.”

“Yes, m’lady, whatever you say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was..............a journey
> 
> next update will be more of a drabble!!! after writing this on my phone my fingers need a break y'all


	15. crimson and clover

 

[Spotify Playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/ssadghost/playlist/3t6SoV1u2GWhuoz5wAi8jS?si=tzAIfFmFQryWn2hjaR1Xrw)

 

The drive home was considerably more relaxed than the drive to Portland had been. Perhaps it was the dying sunlight, faded now to a hazy purple along the approaching horizon, or the slowly emerging stars twinkling in the sky around them, but Rey and Kylo both felt like they could breathe, for the first time that day. 

There was a certain amount of relief-fuelled excitement which had seemingly electrified the very air that was contained in the cab of Kylo’s car. That, combined with the softly-falling night, and the quiet music playing through the speakers, made Kylo feel somewhat giddy. He felt like he could just reach over and take Rey’s hand in his and maybe hold it for a little while if she would permit it, or something stupid like that. 

The song which had been playing faded into a new one, and a strong voice backed by crawling guitar riffs filled the void of silence. It was a familiar song; an older song, made famous by so many awkward school dances in the 1980’s. 

_ Ahh…now I don’t hardly know her, but I think I could love her…crimson and clover… _

Kylo swallowed as he listened to the lyrics. The narrator’s longing for this girl seemed to only grow in earnest as the song went on; it was like he was watching her from afar, wishing that one day he could love her the way he wanted to, wondering what that might be like…

It was all too familiar for Ren. 

_ My, my, what a sweet thing…I want to do everything…what a beautiful feeling… _

He extended his hand, having made up his mind, and turned the radio off. 

Rey tore her eyes away from the passenger window and gave him a puzzled look. 

“What’s the matter?” she asked without missing a beat. “You’ve got beef with Tommy James & the Shondells, then?” 

Kylo scoffed, trying to hide just how humorous he thought that line was. 

“No…just don’t like the song, is all,” he muttered.

“Oh, I see,” She leaned over to nudge him with her elbow. “Bad prom memory, is that it?”

_ “No,” _ he insisted. “I didn’t go to my prom.”

“Let me guess: you were too cool for it, or at least  _ you _ thought you were.”

“You know it.”

Rey yawned twice in a row and rubbed at her eyes with her fists. It was getting late, and they still had a little over an hour of travel left before they were home. 

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” he suggested. 

“I think I might,” she agreed, before yawning again. “This day kind of drained me.” 

“Of course. Here,” He grabbed his jacket from the backseat and offered it to her. “Use it as a blanket or a pillow, or whatever.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and it felt like his heart was going to fly out of his chest.

She was asleep before the last drop of light had drained from the sky. Kylo cut furtive side-glances at her, admiring the way the passing streetlights traveled across her face, bathing it in brilliant flashes of amber. 

It was always during moments like this he found himself questioning everything he thought to be right. When she would sleep next to him, making herself vulnerable to him, just to show him she could. She was comfortable, and peaceful. And he knew, he would risk everything for the slightest chance that she may never have to feel anything less than that, ever again in her life.

He thought of the song,  _ Crimson and Clover,  _ with its lilting, hopeful chorus, and of her. He could love her. He  _ does _ love her. And maybe one day she’ll discover that truth, but it wouldn’t be that day. Not even the day after that. Maybe not ever, depending on how things end in Fairview. 

But for now, in that brief, gentle moment between calm and chaos, things felt okay.

The road into town was quiet; Kylo only met three other vehicles down its winding path. He yawned, and stretched his fingers atop the steering wheel. Home was nearly in sight. His  _ bed _ was nearly in sight. 

He dropped his speed down to forty as he entered town. He contemplated waking Rey up now, but with one look at her he decided against it. He’d wait until they were home. Maybe he could carry her inside if she was too tired to move. Would she let him? She’d probably feel so light and warm in his arms; her head would be a familiar weight upon his chest, and maybe she’d cling to him just a little—

He slammed on the breaks and caused his tires to squeal loudly against the pavement, narrowly avoiding a collision with a young girl on a bike who had crossed the road in front of him. She paused only briefly, her big, black eyes wide with shock, before pedalling away as fast as she could – as if she’d been running from something else all along. 

Kylo hardly saw her leave. He recognized the sight of her dark ponytail whipping around, its tendrils striking the sides of her pale face and neck, but he didn’t register it in his mind. 

He was seeing something else there; a similar scene, set in the same place but down a different path, years ago now. He’d been standing in an alleyway at night, alone, shaking violently but not because of a chill. He had just witnessed murder. The first dead bodies he’d ever seen up close. His head was spinning. He’d just barely lit his cigarette and taken a drag off of it when he’d seen her: a little girl, who couldn’t have been ten years old yet, escaping out the back gate of the house in which it had happened, equipped with a backpack and a bicycle twice her age. 

He’d stepped towards her, unsure of what to do but only knowing, intrinsically, that he shouldn’t allow her to escape. His shoe made a crunching sound on the gravel alley, and it alerted her. She’d spun her head to look him right in the face, and one of her pigtails had thrown itself across her throat. Her hazel eyes had been wide and full of terror, her freckled cheeks streaked with tears. She had paused for only a moment, as if to see if he was going to try and grab her or yell for someone, and when he did neither, she jumped on her bike and tore off in the opposite direction.

“Jesus H. Christ!” Rey exclaimed from beside him, in the present, those same eyes now stricken with confusion and panic. “What happened?!”

Kylo blinked, taken aback by her outcry and still reeling from what he had just recalled. His hands were shaking like they had that night, and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel in an effort to make them stop. But he could do nothing about the way his heart was beating out of his chest, and he was breathing far too heavy to pretend to be calm. 

“I…I...” He stammered, completely unsure of what to do, or say. 

“Kylo…?”

Rey was looking at him, pleading with him to explain,  _ somehow.  _ She was still leaned forward in her seat, her one leg stretched out to brace herself and her palms still pressed against the dash. His jacket had fallen to the floor. And suddenly he realized he’d woken her up, and frightened her. It was this which made him gather his thoughts.

“Some kid on a bike just cut out right in front of me,” he explained, gesturing at the road. “I could’ve killed her.”

“Oh,” Rey breathed, and settled back in her seat. She ran a long hand down her face. “Oh, my god. That’s one way to wake up.”

“I’m so sorry,” Kylo sighed.  _ Not just for this. But I can never make up for the wrongs I’ve done you. _

“It’s not your fault,” she said softly, and put a hand on his arm. She smiled fondly at him, but it only made him feel worse this time.

“Welcome home, right?” She joked.

“Yeah. Right.”

Slowly, stiffly, he got the car moving again. But his heart didn’t stop beating, and his hands didn’t stop shaking, and that queasy feeling in his gut didn’t go away. 

_ You really don’t remember? _ His own mother had spoken those words to him, not very long ago. He had known nothing of them then and they had bothered him. Now they were a sharp, uncomfortable weight on his heart. 

They made it home without another incident and Kylo turned the car off. He didn’t move right away. He didn’t want to. He felt so sick. 

“Kylo? Are you okay?”

He looked at her, and gave her his best false smile. If it was off, he could blame the hour. 

She had just looked so peaceful. He couldn’t take that away from her yet. 

_ Not tonight. Not tomorrow. Maybe the day after that,  _ he decided.

“I’m fine. Let’s go inside.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, it's short. and i know what you must be thinking: "we waited three weeks for THIS?" and to that end, all i have to say is this: whoopsie-daisy
> 
> [Tumblr.](https://reylo-solo.tumblr.com/)   
>  [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/reyloghosts)


	16. a different game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter explicitly deals with drugs and drug trafficking, as well as guns and overdosing.
> 
> I'M BACK!!!! sorry i've been away for a while -- i'm neck deep in the busy season at work and i was finishing my first draft of my reylo fanfiction anthology piece! but i'm so excited to be back, and share this chapter with you. i'm very interested to hear what you all think about it by the end ;)
> 
> this chapter was heavily influenced by the song "the time is now" by atreyu. you can hear it and others on the official lie to me spotify playlist!

 

 _Flying high above the world_ __  
_And it's a new life, it's a new mind_   
And I will never fall

 __  
_I can't contain myself, I never felt so alive_   
I'm past the breaking point, I set my soul on fire

 _  
_ _The time is now_

 *

_It was all I could think about that night as I laid awake in bed, staring up at that tacky popcorn ceiling. I wanted to cry, or vomit, or both at the same time, but I couldn’t bring myself to do either. I was in shock, body and soul._

_How could I have forgotten? How could I not have made that connection sooner? I know trauma can do a real number on a person but this…this just made me feel stupid._

_The more I thought about it, the easier it was to remember. Pieces began to reappear and click into place, even if I tried to prevent them from doing so. Because I didn’t_ want _to remember this. I didn’t want to see it. But the memories assaulted me nonetheless, wave after wave of horror, anger, and fear._

_I just wanted to toss them aside and scatter them like puzzle pieces._

 

White bodies, blue lips. Track marks on the necks and up the arms. Glassy stares that saw without seeing; frozen in a mixture of fear and haunting recognition.

That was all Kylo could think about that night they got back from Portland. No matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut or gripped his blankets, those bodies remained, as though tattooed on the backs of his eyelids. 

Of course, he hadn’t known who they were when he saw their bodies, spread-eagled on the bed and the floor. How could he have known? He hadn’t been given names. He’d just been told to go, and to watch. So that he’d know what happened to people who betrayed the First Order. 

And then after, he’d had to help place the bodies to set the scene of an open-and-shut overdose case…

No. No, he couldn’t think about that. His skin was already crawling enough.

Angry and frustrated with himself, he flung the blankets off of his lower half and got out of bed. He threw an old, ripped sweater on over his bare torso and stepped quietly into the darkened hallway. 

He grabbed his pack of smokes and his lighter off the kitchen table and made sure to tread quietly around the couch where Rey was snoring soundly. Her hair was tossed in a tangled wave over her pillow, and she had both hands curled up under her chin where they were just barely holding on to the edge of the blanket. The sight of her made Ren’s heart soar and then just as swiftly come crashing back down.

He looked away from her and escaped out into the night. 

The air was balmy, despite the lateness of the hour. Yet there was a refreshing breeze that, when it managed to pick up enough substance to brush against his body, made him realize that he had been sweating. 

The acrid taste of tobacco was especially sour in his tired, dry mouth, but the nicotine helped soothe his anxious nerves. There was so much to be anxious about, after all. So many things he had to sift through, and Kylo Ren was not very good at sifting. 

One thing was for certain: after the realization he’d had, his feelings for Rey needed to be put on the back burner. He couldn’t analyze how he felt about her while he knew without a doubt he had been there the night her parents died; it just wasn’t feasible. He needed to think about how he was going to tell her the truth, and _when_. Because he had to tell her the truth, he had known that the instant he remembered. Even if it might push her away. That thought terrified him, but he had no other choice. He was done lying for himself.

As for the when...there was no good time for such a conversation. But if he could push it until after they’d followed up on Rose’s lead with the drug deal, he could maybe, just maybe, avoid a complete catastrophe. He was only looking at the bigger picture.

He just wished it didn’t make him feel so fucking selfish.

 

***

 

Kylo’s house

6:13 P.M.

July 27th, 2010

 

Being in love with someone and knowing your time with them is limited is a very strange phenomenon for a person to endure. Planning to overthrow a massive drug deal with that person knowing time with them is limited is just plain torture.

“Rose said she had it on good authority that it was going down on Deadman’s Walk at three a.m.,” Rey explained, going over the details for the hundred-billionth time. “But we should stake out at midnight, just in case it’s a false lead.”

“Right,” Ren muttered absently.

He’d been scrubbing the same frying pan in the sink for nearly five minutes. It was beyond clean at that point, but Kylo had long since stopped paying attention to what his hands were doing, or what Rey was saying.

He stared out his kitchen window without really looking at anything. His brow was furrowed in thought, as it had been for most of the day. 

Finally there was the sound of a fist hitting his kitchen table decidedly, which brought him back into the present.

“Alright, that’s enough. What’s going on with you?” Rey demanded sharply.

Kylo blinked, shocked by her sudden outburst. He set the frying pan in the drying rack and looked at her. She had twisted around in her chair and was staring quite sternly right back at him. There was something in the way she was looking at him that elicited a surprising reaction in him. She looked frustrated, but she looked like she _cared_. He hadn’t really anticipated that, somehow.

For a second, panic flared up behind his rib cage. He wanted to run. He could feel his lungs starting to constrict. But he swallowed it back down like the bitter, painful pill it was, and managed to keep himself relatively calm.

_Now is not the right time for her to know._

“What are you talking about?” He responded. The words sounded flat and stupid in his ears. 

Rey rolled her eyes. “Don’t. You’ve been absent all day; lost in your own head. I want you to tell me why.”

“There’s nothing—”

“Kylo.”

Her tone brokered no further argument.

He sighed and squeezed his eyes tightly shut for a moment. A lie. That was what he needed. Just a simple, small lie, that could just as easily be the truth. One tiny lie, just to push things off a little bit longer, until she — until they _both_ were ready for the real truth.

“I’m just...thinking about tonight,” he explained. “I’m...I don’t know, nervous, I guess? And I feel a little uncomfortable with the idea of going back into my old neck of the woods, having to face those demons. And if anyone recognizes me, the whole operation would be blown—”

It wasn’t a total lie. Not really. He was feeling apprehensive about their plans. And he was worried he could ruin it all. It just wasn’t the truthful answer to the question she posed, is all.

She seemed to believe it, anyway. Her stony glare softened and her shoulders relaxed. 

“Of course you’re uncomfortable,” she agreed, in a much gentler tone. “These people abused you, for years.”

Kylo winced at the use of the word “abused”. He’d thought of it that way, of everything that had happened to him, once or twice, but he’d always ended up admonishing himself for using that term. He didn’t think it right. Honestly, seeing himself as a victim made him feel anxious. Did he even have a right to identify as one? He had willingly participated and it backfired on him, at best. He’d been a stupid kid that took too long to smarten up. That’s how he saw things. It was difficult to see it any other way. Somehow, though, knowing Rey interpreted it like that, it got him thinking, just a little.

“But I need to do this, and I know you’ll never in a million years let me go without you,” She smiled fondly at him. “So...do you want to talk some more about it?”

He looked at her, right into those soft doe eyes of hers, and there was a split second where he wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her everything: all his fears and his demons, and all the awful things he had done for the Order. But alas…

_Not today. Not tomorrow. Maybe not ever._

“No.” 

He turned to walk away but the protesting screech of her chair’s legs dragging across the floor put a stop to that. 

“Don’t walk away from me,” she requested firmly. “Please. Tell me what’s going on. Are you really that afraid?”

 _Don’t lie to her again tonight,_ Kylo chastised himself. _How can you look her in the eyes and tell her another lie? On top of the one you’ve been maintaining every single day since you met her?_

So, he turned around, and bared himself to her, at least partly.

“Yes,” he answered in emotional earnest. “Okay? I am. I’m fucking afraid.”

He could see it on her face. She wanted to give him that puzzled look of hers, because it had never before crossed her mind that Kylo Ren could be afraid of anything. This all seemed silly to her, he was certain of it. But she managed to restrain her expression. He only wondered if she was restraining laughter, too.

“Why?” she asked quietly.

Kylo shook his head and ran distressed fingers through his already tousled, unbrushed hair.

“Do you know how many people I’ve had to drag out to Deadman’s Walk, against their will? And then I’ve either had to threaten to kill them, or _actually_ kill them?”

Rey’s lips pressed together, her eyebrows knitting in the middle. If he wasn’t mistaken, Kylo saw her chin tremble.

“It’s not a good place to be, Rey. And going back there is going to reopen a lot of old, shitty wounds for me. And I don’t know how to prepare myself for that, let alone you. And I just...I just don’t want you to be afraid of me, when you find out.”

“Kylo…” She took a brave step towards him, and he nearly stepped back. “You don’t have to prepare me for anything. Those things you did when you were with the Order, that stuff is in the past. It’s not who you are today and I know that. Nothing you’ve done could make me give this all up. I would have gotten nowhere if you hadn’t come along that night. I owe you a lot.” 

He shook his head. 

“No, you don’t understand…”

But he could say no more about it. Rey’s cell phone blasted a sharp ring and vibrated loudly against the wood tabletop. Instantly, it had all her attention, and she grabbed it.

“It’s Paige. She probably wants to go over the plan,” she said. “Can we talk more later?”

Maybe she didn’t see the sadness that flashed in his eyes like moonlight on the river’s surface. If she did, she elected to ignore it.

“Yeah,” he muttered as she was lifting the phone to her ear, “later.”

***

Fairview Outskirts

4 miles down Deadman’s Walk

2:14 A.M.

 

“Would you stop smoking those things? You’re going to give us away with a stink like that.”

Kylo looked from Rey to the smouldering joint betwixt his fingers and rolled his eyes.

“I need _something_ to take the fucking edge off,” he cursed, taking one more long pull from the thing before putting it out against the rough bark of a tree.

“Here,”

She thrust a small silver flask at him, with no explanation of what was inside. Curious, Kylo unscrewed the cap and took a whiff.

“Is this — did you fill this with my Jim Beam?” He asked, incredulous. 

She smirked and had a little chuckle to herself. She was awfully confident, he thought. And why shouldn’t she be? Because really, he knew as well as she did that at the end of the day, she could have drank the whole bottle and he wouldn’t have done a damn thing about it. 

“No, it’s some other weird bloke’s Jim Beam,” came the cocky reply. “Drink it.”

The conversation fell silent, and the night pressed in on them once more. 

Try as hard as he might, Kylo could not keep himself from fidgeting. His leg bounced endlessly at a brisk pace, and his fingers rapped a tuneless beat against his thigh. His emotions were running amok; he didn’t know what to feel. 

He was apprehensive, that much was for sure. There was so much about this situation that just felt _wrong_. Perhaps the leading cause of that was the voice inside his head incessantly reminding him about Rey’s parents and the truth. But he also couldn’t deny the simple fact that this entire thing felt rushed and uncertain. They were going off the word of a basic stranger, after all. Who was Rose to them? No one. So why was Rey so desperately eager to trust her? 

He was afraid of all the things that could go wrong, of course. It was the kind of fear that ate away at his insides with teeth made of jagged ice, until there was nothing left but a vast and empty black hole which threatened to consume him. The more he let himself think of all the awful possibilities, — and, due to his past experience, he could think up a frightening amount of them — the further down into the hole he fell.

But there was also a part of him, a small yet vociferous part, that was excited for the night. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or his instability, but he could feel a familiar thrill shooting up and down his spine, to the base of his neck and through his legs. Jolts of nerves and excitement, buzzing through his system like a good dosing of cocaine. It was a large attributing cause of his jumpiness. 

Why was he so thrilled by the idea of getting back in the game, even for a night? He should be revolted, he thought; or at the very least, miserable. But he wasn’t, because a part of him had missed it, no matter how small that part may be. 

This had been everything to him, once. Risking it all, every day and night, for the sake of the cause. That mental preparation one has to do every time, in case there’s violence or something goes awry — he lived in it; that thought process and those emotions still remained his second nature. 

He had learned a lot about life from the M.C., and a lot about living, too. That was a truth he couldn’t ever escape. 

“Hey, someone’s coming,”

He nudged Rey and pointed a finger at a quickly-approaching shadow, walking carefully though the unkempt grass along the tree line. 

Instantly, Kylo’s hackles were raised. His hand reached behind him, fingers tightening around the stock of the Beretta 92FS, which he had tucked carefully into the waistband of his jeans. 

Rey squinted through the foliage for a short while before she dared to let her breath out.

“It’s just Paige,” she whispered. “Hey! Over here.”

The girl ducked down as she got closer and cut her way through the overgrown grass, shrubbery and trees like a shark gliding through water. She reached them and gave Rey an excitable smile, but Kylo got a wary glance. 

“Sorry I took so long,” Paige said. “I was working on a special little project. Did I miss anything?”

“No, nothing yet,” Rey answered. “I did get spooked by a deer, though…”

Rey told Paige the story and Paige was kind enough to chuckle at it, though it was obvious Rey thought it was the funniest thing. 

Kylo wasn’t listening. His eyes were trained on a small black duffel bag Paige was holding in her left hand. He interrupted their conversation without thinking twice.

“What’s that?” 

His tone was brisk, and the depth of his voice drowned them both out.

Paige caught sight of his finger, pointed accusingly at her bag. She drew it a little closer to her side.

“My special project,” she answered coolly.

“Which is?”

“You’ll see.”

Kylo didn’t care for her answer, and he _especially_ didn’t care for her cocky smile. 

“How’d you settle on this spot again?” Paige inquired. She cast her gaze upwards to the towering tops of the trees.

It was an inconspicuous spot, a little over four miles down the dirt road, near an old busted fence line and a trickling creek hidden in amongst the trees. 

“Kylo told me about it,” Rey explained, keeping her eyes trained on the road.

“Bet you’d know all the F.O. secrets, huh?” Paige prodded, pointing her chin at Kylo.

“If I did, do you think I’d be wasting my time out here?” He shot back icily.

“Shut up and get down, both of you!” Rey snapped. “There’s a vehicle coming!”

In an instant, all three of them were crouched down behind the thick shrubbery, completely hidden from view. They watched in the shadows as a sleek black Jeep drove down the uneven, winding road at a slow, careful pace. They all held their breath as it crunched over the gravel right in front of them, only a few yards away. 

“Do we follow it?” Paige asked in a choked whisper as it continued to drive away from them.

No one answered her at first. Rey and Kylo were watching the Jeep closely, its red brake lights glowing like embers in the black night. It kept going, nearly cresting the hill roughly sixty feet away, and Rey shifted her weight.

“Maybe…”

“Wait! It stopped! Now it’s backing up, look!” Paige hissed, jabbing a finger at it. 

Rey preemptively ducked. “Do you think they saw us?”

“No,” Kylo answered evenly, calmly. “We just have the best seats for the show.”

He watched, unphased, as the vehicle slowly reversed back towards them, stopped, and turned around before shutting off its engine and lights. No one exited the Jeep. No one spoke behind the bushes. All was quiet for a minute that seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

Another vehicle approached. They saw its headlights first, bathing the scene in ghostly white. When it finally broke through the tree line into their sights, Rey was mildly shocked to see that it was a large, remodeled U-Haul, painted a matte baby blue colour. 

“That’s a big shipment,” Paige said on a breath.

“That’s nothing.” Kylo grumbled from beside Rey.

The Jeep flashed its headlights once, and the truck responded by flashing its lights twice. 

“Here we go,” Kylo breathed. 

They watched in complete silence as the doors of the Jeep opened and four men got out, all dressed in black. The two who had been in the backseat had their faces obscured by strange masks made of twisted pieces of metal welded together into odd shapes. It made them look alien, and robotic.

They were fighters. ‘Knights’ is what they called themselves. They didn’t concern Kylo; he had trained the majority of them, so he knew there was no competition there. However, the redheaded, slender man who stepped out of the passenger seat in a slick, expensive-looking black suit was another story altogether. 

The man had a pinched look to his face; his ginger hair was severely combed back towards the nape of his neck and away from his face, which only accentuated the overstretched look of him. He was tall and thin as a rail, obviously hiding his fragility behind the attention-grabbing suit and his squad of mean-looking men.

“Who’s that?” Paige whispered.

“Hux,” Kylo chewed the name out between clenched teeth. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed visibly, and once again he grabbed hold of the Beretta in his waistband, taking it out and feeling its reassuring weight in his palm.

Rey instantly reached a hand out and set it on his thigh to restrain him, her fingernails digging sharply into his pant leg and igniting small bursts of targeted pain along his flesh.

“Easy there, big guy,” Paige whispered. “There won’t be a need for that gun tonight.” 

“The fuck do you mean by that?” Kylo retorted, giving her a dirty glare.

“You’ll see.” She held her index finger to her lips and winked.

Kylo was about to tell her to cut it out with her cryptic bullshit, but Rey clapped her hand over his mouth with a little more force than was necessary. Kylo grumbled and growled behind her warm palm, but she was  having none of it. 

“Shut _up_!” she hissed. “They’re getting out of the transport truck!”

Kylo wasn’t sure he recognized the two men who got out of the remodeled U-Haul; it was difficult to see their faces with their backs to him. Regardless of his viewpoint, a chill raced up his spine when they walked towards Hux and his goons. They weren’t good, whoever they were.

“I can’t hear what they’re saying...can you?” Rey asked, mystified by the scene before her.

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Paige replied, holding fast to the duffel she’d brought with her. “They’re going to check out their purchase. You two stay here, see what they bought into. When you see me coming back to you, start running towards town but make sure to stay in the trees. And when I say ‘run’, I mean _run._ ” 

“Wait — _what?!_ What about the plan?!” Rey hissed, tearing her gaze away to look at Paige with concern.

“Rose and I worked out a new plan,” Paige explained bluntly, “a better plan.”

“Uh, okay, thanks for letting me know — where are you going?” Rey asked, exasperated.

Once again, Paige winked and gave her infuriating reply, “You’ll see.”

Before either Rey or Kylo could stop her, Paige ducked away, keeping hidden in the shadows. They watched in complete shock for a minute as she went, following closely to the treeline, headed towards the back of the Jeep.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Kylo hissed as Paige slinked off, shaking his head. “If she gets herself killed, I’ll have no sympathy.”

Rey shot him a look but said nothing, returning her attention to the nefarious deal playing out before her. Her eyes went wide once they opened the sliding back door of the U-Haul.

At first all she saw were wooden crates. Dozens of them, all stacked on top of each other in a neat order against the walls, from the floor to the roof of the truck. One particular box stood alone, however, right at the rear, where the men could easily access it. The redheaded man who Kylo had called Hux snapped his fingers at his goons and motioned towards the crate. The two masked men took their turn in stride and walked up to the crate, using a power drill to pull the screws out of the lid.

While all of this was going on, Kylo’s attention was directed elsewhere. He watched Paige’s black form crawl around the far side of the Jeep and dart towards the front of the transport truck. There she remained, but what she was doing there he couldn’t know, because she was hidden from his view.

 _What the fuck are you doing?_ He cursed her. _She’s going to blow this whole thing. That’s what I get for agreeing to let North-siders in on shit like this._

Rey suddenly latched on to Kylo’s left arm, gripping him in terror rather than annoyance this time, and redirected him back to the scene on the narrow road.

Drugs. That’s what was in every one of those crates, as far as Rey was concerned. She watched with a cold, sick feeling in her gut as Hux’s men lifted off the top of the crate. She was almost fascinated by it when they began to remove cartons of eggs out of the thing.

“The top layer is always the cover-up,” Kylo explained on a breath from her side, anticipating her confusion. “Just in case things go south along the way.”

The feeling in her stomach intensified as Hux stepped forward and pulled a large plastic bag of pills from amongst the straw padding. She could taste the bile, burning the back of her throat, when he turned the bag this way and that, examining the thousands of round, pale blue pills it contained with a lecherous grin on his angular face. 

Sometimes, Rey had to admit, she really hated being right.

“Oh my god,” she murmured shakily. “All of that...is passing through here?” 

“Regularly,” Kylo nodded. “I don’t know if it’s all drugs this time, though. You see that, behind this first crate? There’s another one.”

“Couldn’t that just be different drugs?”

“Sure, sure. But what if it’s not?”

Something didn’t feel right to him. Hux looked bored, and Hux only looked bored like that when there was something much better yet to come. 

He had a sneaking suspicion, which slithered into his mind fully-formed and assured, that he wished he could ignore. He thought he knew what was in the other crate; what was in several of those crates, if not the majority. 

 _Guns. It has to be guns. They’re restocking the armoury, but why?_ These thoughts and more raced through his mind at a blinding pace, and his heart began to pound inside his chest. This entire mission would be made ten times more impossible if they were trafficking guns into town again.

The Knights began to unscrew the top of the next crate. Hux leaned over to say something in the delivery man’s ear, and when he straightened he was wearing an oily smile. 

The lid came off. The cartons of eggs came out, covered in small straggling pieces of straw. Kylo waited, not even daring to risk a breath, to see Hux reach in and grab onto the stock of a semi-automatic rifle, or a sleek, polished handgun. Whatever the type, the serial number would be ever-so-delicately scratched off and painted over, and there would likely be a silencer nearby, ready to be equipped. 

When Hux reached into the crate and removed a tightly-wrapped brick of cocaine, that breath Kylo had been holding came out in a rush. He watched, his skin prickling with a phantom chill, as Hux cut a small slit in the brick with a pocketknife and inspected it — very closely.

“Hey, are you alright?” Rey whispered from somewhere beside him. “You’re shaking.” 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine,” Kylo said, brushing it off expertly. “I’ve just...never been so damn happy to see a block of cocaine before.” 

There was something in the way he said it, and something about the way the moonlight was outlining his face in a pearlescent glow, but it made a surge of giddiness bubble up from her chest. She, too, had been fearing the worst after hearing what Kylo said about the second crate. The entire night, she had felt like nothing more than a nervous wreck, being tormented by her own uncertain emotions. And his wit was so out of place like always, his delivery so dry and blunt; and he was here, with her, crouched behind a bush in the shadow of question and doubt with the moon hanging over them like a spotlight. 

And for all those reasons, she couldn’t stop the giddiness from rising, and bursting from her lips as a tinkling, very audible, giggle.

Instantly, she slapped her hand over her own mouth, absolutely horrified at what she had just done. Kylo’s smile died off quite suddenly, and his head snapped back towards the road, where he saw six pairs of eyes, staring straight back at him.

“What was that?” A breeze carried Hux’s sharp, accented voice over to them. 

The two of them stayed perfectly still. Perhaps, if they just didn’t move a muscle or make a sound, their foes would simply ignore it. Pass it off as the absent tittering of a nocturnal bird or mammal. 

But with all they were risking to be out there, all the pills and drugs they had in their transport vehicle, they couldn’t possibly leave such a thing to chance. 

Rey’s heart was in her throat as Hux waved at his men to stay with the truck and began walking slowly towards them. Kylo’s pointer finger slipped down to the trigger of his Beretta. He’d dreamt of getting a chance to kill Hux. After all, this was the man who accused Kylo of betraying the very club that had raised him. The very same man who had then, shortly afterwards, taken control of that club. A club which had been meant for Kylo to inherit. 

 _Come a little closer,_ Kylo thought darkly. _I want you to see my face before I kill you._

He was close now, only a couple feet away from the very bush they were hiding behind, and he leaned in even closer. His eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness between the branches and leaves, and he just nearly made out two lumpy figures, when a sharp whistle stopped him in his tracks. 

Both Rey and Kylo jumped at the noise, their heads snapping to the right in the direction it had come from. All they could see was a low-hanging shadow, barreling its way through the underbrush into the trees.

 _Paige._ With Hux so close, she had had to improvise on the signal.

She had caught Hux’s attention, and he began to walk towards her movement, opening his mouth to yell at his men. Rey and Kylo took the opportunity and darted out from the bush, also breaking through the treeline and disappearing into the night. 

They heard Hux exclaim behind them as they went, and then, suddenly, with a flare of blinding light, there was an earth-shaking explosion. Kylo cursed and reached to grab Rey’s hand between the slender tree trunks, only to find her reaching for him. They both fell to the mossy forest floor and looked behind them to see the quickly-dying fireball rising into the sky where the transport truck had once been. 

 _A bomb_ , Kylo thought to himself. _Her special project was a bomb._

They didn’t have time to stop and see if anyone was dead. Kylo could see Hux’s ginger hair, flaming copper illuminated by the smouldering fire behind him, rising as the man stood and began to stomp into the forest after them. Quickly, Kylo helped Rey to stand and urged her to come with him, to keep running, and not to look back.

Not far off from the explosion was a small, oval-shaped meadow, where the trees stayed clear and the grass grew to be nearly eight inches high. There, they found Paige waiting for them, breathless and with a wild grin on her dirt-smeared face. Her pants had ripped at the knee, and blood stained the torn fabric. Clearly, she had fallen along the way, but it didn’t appear to phase her one bit. She waved them over frantically, nearly laughing as she spoke.

“Come on! Hurry! Don’t stop, I’ll be right behind you.”

Then, as they crossed the meadow and ran past her, she called, “Meet me over the fenceline!”

They kept going, unaware that Paige was hanging back and digging the last item out of her duffel bag: a can of neon orange spray paint. She tore the lid off the can, turned to face the widest tree trunk available, and painted a hasty recreation of the Resistance symbol upon it. Then, she dropped the can and chased after her accomplices, her grin growing only wider with the knowledge that when Hux saw that, the war would begin.

 

***

 

“Oh my god...oh my god...I can’t believe she blew it up,” 

Rey had been repeating this phrase over and over again for the last minute and a half, pacing back and forth along the fenceline, as Fairview glimmered in the background. Kylo watched her with interest, panting after their sprint, desperately wanting a cigarette between his fingers.

“Well...tell me how you really feel about it,” he panted, smirking at her.

She stopped her pacing and an open-mouthed smile broke out upon her face, followed shortly thereafter by her chirping laughter. Without warning, she suddenly ran to Kylo  and jumped into his arms, giving him only a half-second to prepare himself to catch her. He stumbled backwards but kept his footing, holding her fast to him with one arm around her shoulders and the other at her hips. 

“That was _amazing_!” Rey exclaimed by his ear. “I’m not even mad — that was ten times better than my plan; Paige was right. Holy shit, my ears are still ringing!”

Kylo laughed, infected by  her energy, and happily took advantage of the fact that she didn’t appear to want out of his arms by continuing to keep her there. 

“That’ll get your blood pumping hot, won’t it?” Kylo chuckled, his cheek against the side of her throat. “How’s that adrenaline feel?”

“Incredible. I’ve never done anything like that before,” Rey answered, pulling back to look at him, straight into those lively brown eyes. “Thank you, for everything. I would not have been able to pull this off if it weren’t for your help. I could just...I could just…”

Her lips touched his firmly but only briefly, in that polite way people sometimes do when they’re grateful, or happy, or both. And they were all those things and more in that moment. The adrenaline was still fresh, as Kylo had said. He hadn’t felt this type of rush in a very long time; he’d forgotten how addictive it was. They were each feeling too brave for their own good. 

He’d been so taken aback by her affection he hadn’t returned the gesture in the moment. He could still feel her lips there, on his; soft but voracious, and he wanted more. And why shouldn’t he have more? Why shouldn’t she? Why couldn’t they  have everything in life they’ve ever selfishly wanted, and then some?

Before he could think more than twice about it, he kissed her, allowing it to last just a few precious seconds longer than she last. A part of him was afraid of crossing a line, but that part was severely muted, given the situation. But he could feel her lips moving against his own, sliding like satin, draped over his foolish, eager mouth.

Slowly, gently, he let her feet touch the ground. He pulled back, waiting to see if she was angry with him. Would he be lucky enough to get a tongue-lashing, or would she even want to speak at all? 

He watched her, not daring to take his eyes away from her dazed ones for a second. Her face was a blank canvas of shock for a moment, and he hoped he hadn’t broken her somehow. Perhaps it was all too much for her to handle.

But of course, he knew her better than that. She could handle all of this, and so much more. So when she took his face in her hands and kissed him again, holding him there against her, he was ready for it. 

His right hand lost itself around the curve of her throat, amongst the strands of her soft brown hair, whilst his left fell to her hip and pulled it close. She tasted like everything he loved and everything he wanted; instantly he felt himself becoming an addict. The mental images of her parents’ corpses, and the painful guilt that came with them, were far from his mind, at least for a short time.

The tip of his tongue crossed her bottom lip, asking her permission for more. God, he’d beg on his knees for more, if that’s what she wanted. He’d do anything, everything, whatever she asked, just for one more taste…

But then she was pulling away, and the cold instantly returned to his body, rushing him like an arctic wind and stealing away the last of his breath.

“Stop,” Rey whispered, and she put her hands on his chest to push him away. “Stop, we...we can’t — I can’t...do that with you.”

There were a lot of things she could have said just then, all of which would have been less hurtful than that.

His shame nearly choked him. He felt so stupid. How could he let himself give in that easily? How could he risk losing the first person to treat him kindly in years? This was not a game. He was not some desperate, lonely teenager anymore, latching on to any one that gave him attention, even if it was of the negative sort. He felt sick.

“I’m sorry,” he sputtered, stepping back from her and wiping his mouth on his arm. “I shouldn’t have — I’m sorry,”

“It’s okay,” Rey consoled, reaching out for him, desperate to close the new space he’d put between them. “Ben, please—”

“ _Don’t_ call me that,” he snapped, his eyes growing cold and hard.

Warm tears sprang, fresh and stinging, to Rey’s eyes. She felt deflated. Her heart had sunk so quickly she was dizzy. And her lips still burned with the feel of him.

“It was nothing — Kylo, please. I’m not upset, it’s fine—”

He stepped towards her, pointing his finger at her, even though it shook.

“You’re right, it was nothing,” he whispered. His voice bore the unmistakable sound of someone who was trying to keep it together but failing to do so; his emotions kept breaking through his attempted facade. By the end of it, he had all but stopped trying to keep himself from crumbling apart.

“...It was nothing, and it’s never going to happen again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> *incoherent screeches*
> 
>  
> 
> Twitter.  
> Tumblr.


	17. a bad disease

Hey mister bartender  
You see my tremblin' hands  
You know I need a drink and I need it so bad  
Cause I don't know...Lordy what I just done  
But you got me burning like a foxchild rebel under the sun  
And now I'm shaking from all my misery  
Cause you ain't never met a man as wrong as me

 

The whiskey was sharp on the back of Ren’s tongue when he finally got to sit down after work. He could still feel its heat trickling down his throat into his belly, and that was his sign that he needed more. More, until he was numb and couldn’t even feel himself blink; just for today. He just had to get through the rest of the day.

The problem was, he knew he wasn’t going to make it through without Rey confronting him about their kiss the night before. And he  _ really _ wasn’t confident he could face her sober.

It sounded bad, he supposed. He wasn’t normally such a coward. But this was...different. This matter was tender, and delicate, and he was not tactful enough to deal with it. Every time he allowed himself to picture how that discussion might go, he saw himself bumbling through a car wreck of an apology — which would really just be a tangle of lies, sure to get him into trouble later on.

Rey wasn’t the only reason he was drinking, though. He was frustrated at himself, more than anything else. Why did it hurt so fucking bad when she told him she couldn’t love him, because that was how he had interpreted it? Why had it felt like someone pulled a rug out from under his feet, and suddenly the future looked dark? Why couldn’t he just tell her how he really felt? All these questions and more were floating around his head, preventing him from sleeping, and forcing him to try anything that may turn their jeering off for a while. 

He’d given up on trying to sleep at five-thirty that morning and gotten out of bed. From there, he very quickly decided he did not want to be in or near his house, and got himself ready to leave it. He walked out to the dimly-lit kitchen, where he could see Rey’s distinct form lying on the couch with her back to him. Whether she was really sleeping or only faking it, he hadn’t been able to tell, but he didn’t need to know. At the off-chance she was actually sleeping, he hadn’t wanted to risk waking her, and so he grabbed his wallet and left, opting for a drive-thru breakfast instead.

After that, he’d gone straight to Lloyd’s to start work, despite the fact that no one else was going to be there for hours yet. That aspect didn’t bother him. He set to work fixing an old Chevrolet pickup, and he allowed the music from the crackling radio to fill his head, distracting him.

It had worked, for a little while.

But then one of  _ those _ thoughts crept in. Those anxious thoughts; thoughts of negative outcomes that seem to be the brain’s way of preparing you for the worst, but which only ever end up making you feel sick and miserable. It crept in like a snake and sunk its fangs deep, filling Kylo up with venomous poison.

_ Maybe you’re only staying away because you know when you go back, it’s all going to be over. You’ve lost her forever. _

That was when he’d dropped his wrench on the concrete, ignoring the way its collision rang in his ears, and grabbed a beer from the fridge at the back. It was cold and it numbed his throat. He wasn’t even very thirsty, and it had been far too early in the day to be drinking. He knew that. He recognized all of these things, even as he opened his throat and downed over half the bottle in a few swallows. 

None of it stopped him.

He had stayed at the shop long past closing, and after Brenda forced him to drink two bottles of water, and watched him like a hawk as he’d done so. 

The day had gone by in a blur. He’d done a lot of work — good work, as far as he could tell. Everyone had given him a wide berth and, if any of them had a problem, they certainly didn’t speak it aloud. But he’d been in a haze all day, and he felt like it too. 

Now, it was nearly eight at night, and he was finally sitting down on a workbench inside the garage, after unsuccessfully trying to find more to do. He’d finally decided to tie in to his emergency whiskey, which he had been saving at work for a few months now, in case of an emergency, or a very late night.

As he sat there and listened to the birds chirp and sing excitedly in the trees, he could feel that familiar lurch of anxiety in his gut. It was undeniably there, like the sharp stabbing pain of a pinched nerve, and it had been all day. Only now, he couldn’t busy himself with other things. Now all those aches and pains, that disgust, regret, and fear, could take control.

But he was several beers in at that point, and this had greatly influenced his stance on things. 

“She kissed me back, anyway,” he mumbled to himself. “Probably liked it, too…”

And then he was thinking about the way she had fallen into him, and wrapped her arms around him to push herself deeper into their kiss. He could still feel the ghost of her tight, eager body against his, practically vibrating with adrenaline. Her blood had been running hot like his; it made her skin feel so invitingly warm. He had wanted to taste her excitement; to feel it run hot and wet between his fingers... 

He grimaced and spread his legs some, ashamed by the undesirable and uncomfortable arousal in his jeans.  _ Fuck sakes,  _ he grumbled to himself.  _ I’m officially done drinking for today. _

But still, alcohol or no, the questions continued to nag him. What was that all supposed to mean, anyway? Did it mean anything? Did she do it just to get him hard? She had said it meant nothing, but he didn’t believe that for a second considering it was all he’d been able to think about all fucking day. 

_ But what about her? _ he thought, in a strangely sober manner.  _ Has she been thinking about it — about me? _

Had she been pacing the house, as she was wont to do when she was agitated? Back and forth between the living room and the kitchen like a floating glitch, weaving her way around recliners and a coffee table. 

Would she be worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, long after it’s chewed raw and started bleeding? She wouldn’t pay any mind to that metallic taste on her tongue; it would be no more significant than a speck of dust floating in her wake. 

He told himself it was to ensure that his floor didn’t have an anxious, looping footpath permanently embedded in it, as well as the fact that he still wanted her to have a bottom lip that he could maybe try kissing again one day, and even though they were (partial) lies, they got him moving. He closed up shop, struggling only a little to get the key in the garage lock at the end. 

He took one look at his car and shook his head, electing to press the lock button on his key fob rather than drive it. 

Then, he began the walk home.

 

***

 

When he walked inside he could see her in the kitchen, at the sink. His heart was in his throat, and his head was buzzing with alcohol. 

She didn’t immediately turn to look at him, whether because she too was nervous and afraid, or because she was angry, he couldn’t be sure. Regardless, by the time he was done hanging up his jacket and untying his boots, she was standing a few feet away, looking at him where he stood awkwardly in the entrance. At first, neither of them said anything. They both just stood there, like two ships passing in the night, nothing but a long stretch of awkward depthlessness between them. 

He would not speak first. He couldn’t. He felt like he was choking just at the sight of her. 

Her shoulder-length hair was up in a loose, straggly bun, and the wisps of it which framed her face were backlit by the kitchen light, making her look angelic and terrifying at the same time. Yet, despite her holy crown of earth and light, hastily masked emotions marred her face.

Her eyes were only slightly red and puffy — a sure sign of someone who had recently cried. Maybe an hour ago. Maybe thirty minutes ago. It didn’t matter. She had been crying, and that alone cut him clean through like an icy-cold blade. 

She was wearing a thin lavender v-neck and faded, white and orange striped cotton shorts.  _ Her pyjamas _ , he noted. Had she changed immediately upon getting home, or had she just not gone into work at all?

“How was your day?” She asked timidly, fidgeting with the drawstrings on her shorts, which did nothing but draw his eye and make him correct his stare.

“Fine,” he mumbled. He decided to just look away, either at the floor or at the wall, anywhere but right at her. 

“You’re late getting back,” she said sullenly. She spoke it almost under her breath, like she wasn’t certain if she wanted him to actually hear it or not. 

“Long day,” was all he said. 

It was strange, but he felt like he couldn’t exactly remember how he had acted around her before they kissed. How did a serious situation normally play out? Had they all felt as distant, stilted, and wrong as this? 

He walked past her into the kitchen and started washing his hands in the kitchen sink. The water was a little hotter than necessary, and he was scrubbing much harder than he needed to, but  _ fuck _ , he was drunk and his head felt like a cotton ball. He didn’t know what to do; he was just numb. But that had been his goal, after all. Because he knew, if he hadn’t found that padded, dense numbness and pulled it over himself like a heavy blanket, that he would be panicking. 

She could smell it on him when he brushed by her. Sour but spiced at the same time; a warm and tangy mixture of beer and whiskey. 

“You’ve been drinking.” She said it like it was supposed to scare him.

“You’ve been crying.”

Not denial. Not an apology, nor an excuse. Just a devastating acknowledgement and an unlocked door.

Rey was quiet for a long moment as Ren continued to wash his hands and keep his back to her. She was hastily trying to decide how to continue this conversation now that it had begun. 

“Can we talk about it?” She asked, feeling stupid as the words left her mouth.

Ren sighed, shaking the water from his hands over the sink and pulling the dish towel off the oven handle. Twisting it between his hands, he finally turned his bloodshot eyes to her.

“What’s there to talk about? We kissed,” he said simply, and hollowly. “It was...just a kiss.”

Rey furrowed her brow, puzzled by his response. Her tanned arms folded across her chest and Kylo watched with immense interest as her cleavage deepened under the loose collar of her shirt.  _ No. Nope, _ he reprimanded himself.  _ That won’t help things. _

“That’s it?” She posed. “You woke up at five in the morning and drank at work all day over what was, in your opinion, ‘just a kiss?’” 

“...I didn’t know you were awake,” he mumbled.

“Of course I was awake!” Rey exclaimed. “I couldn’t sleep either, you know. But that’s not the point,”

“No?”

“You left. Like you always do.”

Kylo’s face darkened briefly, like a passing storm urged along by a fervent, icy wind. 

“Well I’m sorry,” he chewed out. “But I couldn’t lay in my bed tossing and turning for one more second. I needed a distraction.”

“Fine, I get it,” She shrugged. “But why didn’t you come home sooner? Are you — do you resent me now, for ending it?”

He looked at her blankly.  _ Do I even think I could? _

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

_ Not about this. _

“No.”

She sighed, and her shoulders gradually sunk as she relaxed her spine. She still looked sad and maybe a bit confused, but that threatening spark in her eye had diminished. 

“I’m sorry for how I worded things,” she mumbled, twisting her fingers around each other. “I want—I  _ need _ you to know that isn’t what I meant.”

She was dancing around it. Would she say it, if he made her? 

“What did you mean?” He asked innocently.

She looked at him like she would be angry with him if she could, and sighed in a restrained manner. 

“When I said I couldn’t...kiss you. I didn’t mean that—that I didn’t want to,” she muttered, and her eyes roamed about the room — anywhere but at his face.

Kylo didn’t say anything at first. He didn’t know what to offer her. But this sent her into a minor panic, and she began to ramble; her words stumbled over one another in a jumbled mess.

“ _ Obviously _ I did want to; you were there, you know what happened. I-I kissed you back, and I only meant that I shouldn’t have; because...you know, what we have here is  _ good.  _ Really good, right? And I just don’t want to change that or, or…”

“Rey.”

She froze, and her muttering came to a halt. She had that pleading look on her face.  _ God, she reads like a book, _ he thought. Or had he just gotten that good at transcribing her? 

_ Please believe me,  _ she was saying.  _ I need you to believe me. _

“I’m not mad,” he said, and it wasn’t a lie. “It was just a kiss. And yes, I got drunk about it! But mostly because I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Rey queried, tilting her head. “Of what?”

_ Ah, shit. _ Now he had to say it.

“...Of losing you,” he mumbled, and this time he was the one who couldn’t look at her. “I thought maybe you’d be mad, or disgusted.”

“Why would I be disgusted?” Her tone was soft now. His admission had cracked the ice between them.

He blinked, and his mouth opened and closed. If she had to ask, then there was no question.  She certainly wasn’t repulsed by the idea of him anymore.

“I...can't have this conversation with you right now,” he muttered, turning away and flopping down on his couch with a hefty sigh. 

“Why not?” Rey laughed, following him slowly.

“The whole”—he waved his right hand lazily in the air before his face—“playing field is uneven.”

“What are you talking about?” Rey shook her head, but she was smiling.

He looked at her, deep amber eyes narrowing slightly in contemplation. It was only a moment before he decided to just go ahead and say it. What harm could it possibly do now?

“Let me put it this way: I, uh, I can absolutely see your tits through your shirt.”

Rey’s face went bright red and she covered her chest with her hands.

_ “Kylo!” _ She admonished.

“You asked.” he shrugged, smirking.

She rolled her eyes and cursed, but he could tell she wasn’t angry with him. She really was like his favourite book he’d read a hundred times. Even when she walked away he didn’t worry. Maybe it was the alcohol desensitizing him. Or maybe he really did just know. 

His fingers worked the paper and marijuana into a perfectly even joint in a matter of minutes. He lit the end and let the flavorful smoke fill his lungs and snake through the room. When Rey came back to the living room to share it with him, she was still wearing the same lavender top.

_ This is either going to be really fun, or really frustrating. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a shorter chapter, but i hope you liked it just the same! thank you for reading and commenting and sharing this story, it truly means the world to me. i'm so happy others like "lie to me" as much as i do. :')


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